


Binary Star System

by AkiRah, inkspot_fox



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Brainwashing, Evolving Tags, F/M, M/M, Marlitharn (OC), Not Canon Compliant, Pureblood Sith, The Jedi Knight IS the Sith Warrior, Timeline Fuckery, playing fast and loose with the lore, pureblood jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:11:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiRah/pseuds/AkiRah, https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspot_fox/pseuds/inkspot_fox
Summary: While the hero of Tython is missing--enthralled by the Emperor--there is a new rising star at Korriban Academy wearing her face.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> his is kind of a strange AU so it bears a little bit of an explanation before we jump in. It features my Jedi Knight Marlitharn (From my Beyond Destiny series) as both the Sith Warrior and Jedi Knight by twisting the timeline. After all, we don’t know exactly how long the Knight was enthralled.  
> With that in mind, please assume that act 1 for the Jedi Knight takes place at least a year before Act 1 for any other character and that the Sith Warrior story begins between Acts 2 and 3 of the Jedi Knight’s timeline.  
> Bioware is bad at timelines anyway.
> 
> Katsulas and Ashlan both belong to [inkspot_fox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspot_fox/works).

“You stand there because I allow it. Because I do not fear.” The words, gentle as a hiss, still somehow echoed over the crash of thunder as force-lightning flooded the room. 

“Fight back! We can resist him.” 

She tried. She darted forwards, lightsaber drawing most of the arcing energy away from her torso. 

Something hard hit her in the sternum and sent her straight into the floor. 

“You are mine. Servants, slaves, weapons. You _will_ obey.” 

Everything went black.


	2. Korriban and Dromund Kaas leave the spirits muddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sith Acolyte Marlitharn arrives on Korriban to make enemies, friends and mistakes.

It rained on Dromund Kaas. Functionally, it _stormed_ on Dromund Kaas, but the lightning and thunder didn’t disturb her. No, it _rained_ on Dromund Kaas, and it did so constantly. Marlitharn, a recent Acolyte of The Academy, had been told that most found the sound soothing. She did not. It was _irritating_ , beating against her ears like hundreds of tiny steel drums. She focused on her anger and at least that was easy. Something was _wrong_ and she wasn’t sure _what_ but it wasn’t the damn rain. She was in danger. 

Well, the acolyte that tried to dispose of her while she was meditating would learn quickly that she didn’t _need_ a lightsaber to end their pitiable existence if they insisted on a confrontation. 

Things were quiet for a while the feeling of danger was muted, hanging in the background of her thoughts. Hiding beneath the endless rain. 

She was interrupted by footsteps but there was no spike in her awareness. She kept her eyes on her hands where they were folded in her lap, and waited. 

“Acolyte,” spoke a deep, almost buzzing voice. 

Marlitharn looked up from her meditations and glared at the black robed figure who stood in the entry way. Kel-dor were rare, even as slaves. She made a note of him, but said nothing, communicating with her angry yellow eyes that she was not above killing the messenger if the message was not delivered quickly.

“I’ve received a message, you’ll be leaving Dromund Kaas.” 

Marlitharn raised on eye tendril. “Explain.” 

“You’ve been moved to the Korriban Academy. It is an honor.” 

She narrowed her eyes at that. It didn’t _feel_ like an honor. It felt like a surprise. Like someone was trying to keep her off balance. It wouldn’t work, but she didn’t like it. “Ah,” was her response. She rose from the floor and summoned her practice swords from across the room and into her hands. They were ugly, unwieldy weapons, in Marli’s mind, and not to her taste at all. They felt _wrong_ in her hands. They sounded wrong. She missed the smell of charred flesh and the sizzle when a lightsaber passed through flesh.

Someday she would have a pair of her own. 

“When do I leave?” 

“Immediately,” the messenger told her. “Overseer Tremel was clear on that. You’ll be entering the pool for the attention of Darth Baras.” 

Marlitharn nodded, assuming by his tone that the name should have meant _something_ to her. 

It did not. 

“Very well,” Marlitharn said, knowing there was nothing else she could do, no argument she could carry, to remain at the Dromund Kaas Academy. “I assume I don’t need to take anything with me?”

“No.” 

“Lead the way then.” 

With her head bowed more in thought than deference, Marlitharn followed the servant out into the jungle. She was given an umbrella and rested it over her shoulder to keep herself nominally dry until they boarded the taxi that took them to the spaceport. Marlitharn waited for an ambush, but none came. She settled aboard the shuttle that would take her to Vaiken Space Station. 

It felt familiar. 

She’d been off Dromund Kaas once before, she thought, it was hard to remember. At least once. Their transport reached Vaiken Space Station and Marlitharn followed the Kel-Dor servant through the bustling corridors full more color and life than she had ever remembered seeing. They boarded a second transport. Marlitharn entered her tiny, closet sized cabin and settled on the floor. Seething should have come easily to her, but it never had. Instead, alone where she could not be judged, Marlitharn quieted her thoughts as though she’d done it all her life. 

She was nervous. She couldn’t fathom why. With her eyes closed she searched her thoughts and feelings. It wasn’t even something _new_ , leaving to study somewhere else, she had done it before. 

Her initial training had been undertaken with Lord Scourge, taught to give pain, to bear it when it was given. Then to the Academy. 

Now to Tython to meet her new Master. To serve the Republic. 

Empire. 

A pain started behind her eyes, bright white and flaring. Marlitharn exhaled through her nose and forced it back and down. 

The door opened. 

“Acolyte?” 

“Mind your own affairs,” she snapped.

“I--apologies.” 

“Don’t apologize, just,” she huffed. “Leave Me.”

Bowing, the servant left and the door closed.

* * *

Korriban’s sun beat down like the hammer against the anvil. The planet was drier than Dromund Kaas was damp, and the hot and dusty environment did nothing for Marlitharn’s headache. She narrowed her eyes to save them from the glare and moved, perhaps a little too fast, from the shuttle to the relative shelter of the dock. She was met by a dark skinned human male, her height and probably in his mid-forties if the frosting of silver in his curly black hair was any indication. 

“At last you’ve arrived,” he said in a stiff imperial accent. “Good, good, there is much to do and every moment is critical.” 

Marlitharn inclined her head, but said nothing. She couldn’t _stop_ an Overseer from trying to move her around like a chess piece, but she could be annoyed about it. The human sounded pleasant at least. Pleased with himself about _something_. 

“I’m Overseer Tremel.” 

_Naturally_ , thought Marlitharn. 

“For decades I’ve administered the trials that prove who is and is not worthy of joining the Sith Order.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume you’re aware that the trials on Korriban are far more dangerous than those on Dromund Kaas.” 

She bristled. “I am aware that more Acolytes _die_ on Korriban, Overseer.” She raised her chin and met his eyes. “Mark my words, I _will_ be Sith. It is my destiny.”

The corner of Overseer Tremel’s mouth hitched up, bemused either with her grit or her near-insolence. Marlitharn didn’t know and didn’t care which. “It wasn’t _destiny_ that brought you here,” he pointed out, gesturing for her to accompany him further under the shade. “You are here because of me. Korriban is the more prestigious and I _expect_ you to obey.” 

Marlitharn made a note to beat him down if the opportunity came up. She was not an akkdog to be brought to heel. 

“You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful Acolyte here.” 

“I would advise you to deliver on that,” Marlitharn allowed the hint of a threat to coil in the back of her throat like a viper. 

She was hand trained by The Wrath.

_How? Why?_ Her head throbbed. 

She would not play the Toady. 

“There’s no room here for your doubt,” Overseer Tremel advised. “And no time to waste.” 

She raised one irritated eye barb to demand an explanation for the hurry. 

“The trials themselves are dangerous, but they are hardly the greatest threat you face.”

_Ah,_ she thought, _the_ reason _I’ve been dragged to this sandbox. Finally_. 

“There’s an acolyte here named Vemrin. He is your enemy and he will try to kill you. You must prepare.” 

“How, precisely, do I have an enemy thirty seconds off the shuttle?” Marlitharn asked. “And what, _precisely_ , is his problem?” _And why, precisely, did you feel the need to summon me to deal with this_? 

“He knows you’ve been brought here to enter the pool for Darth Baras, a pool he is currently dominating. Vemrin’s blood is inferior, he cannot be allowed the level of power that would come with being the apprentice to a Sith of Baras’s caliber.” 

Marlitharn decided she would _enjoy_ ending Tremel’s existence. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about the situation now. Vemrin would try and kill her and he would not live to regret it. 

“Very well.”

“You must fight your way to the Academy steps through the tomb of Ajunta Pall. I advise you to hurry.” He gestured towards the door. “Meet me in my office when you’ve arrived.”

She nodded her acquiescence and watched him leave. Would he cry when she killed him? Would he scream? Or would she kill him so quickly he had no time for either? 

It would be exciting to see. 

She steeled herself more for the sun than for any opponent as she made her way towards the glaring white hole that was the door. The temperature rose by 20 degrees in the sun, buoyed to greater than average heights by the sand. Marlithan hissed through her teeth as her yellow eyes adjusted. 

How many acolytes were lost to temperature alone? And how _exactly_ was that supposed to measure their worth? 

_Do not question_. 

The small valley between her and the entrance to Ajunta Pall’s tomb was littered with some sort of tunneling horror. Individually each beast loomed perhaps two meters tall, supporting their serpentine body on thick legs. More legs served almost as arms or ballast with two limbs sharpened to stabbing implements. 

Marlitharn flung herself at the nearest, keeping clear of the circular saw it used as a maw. Her warblade sliced clean through it. No bones, just foul-smelling goop that drained from the body to stick to her skin and hair. She grinned, heart thumping. She felt _alive_. 

She butchered nearly two dozen of the creatures before making her way into the tomb. 

She had expected silence, or the squelching slither of the creatures roaming outside, but she found chaos inside. Imperial troopers and terrified acolytes fighting the monsters who made their home among Ajunta Pall’s relics and the long gone corpses of his slaves. 

An Imperial captain got her attention and requested help planting a bomb in the egg chamber. Marltharn nodded. It was important that the beasts not eat more people than could be avoided _and_ she couldn’t help but imagine the carnage of a bomb amidst piles of their eggs. 

She fought her way there and leapt to the side as a giant beast tore its way through solid stone up through where she was standing. 

“I’ve got it!” a warm male voice said, Marlitharn turned in time to watch a short, skinny human with dark skin and messy black hair shoot lightning from his hands into the creature, paralyzing it for the four slashes it took to get all the way through its neck. 

“My thanks,” Marlitharn said, inclining her head to the stranger.

He stared at her, eyes going wide. They were light, a grey that stood out in the gloom. Marlitharn frowned at him for going slack jawed and knelt to prime the bomb she was carrying. 

“Sorry. It’s just that you’re the first person to speak to me without sneering in . . .” He frowned. “Possibly ever, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

Marlitharn’s frown deepened while she worked. “Why?” 

There was a pause before he answered. Tension coiled in his shoulders and neck. “I was a slave until about three weeks ago,” he said, and Marlitharn could hear the defensiveness in his voice, as though he was bracing himself for her response. “Everyone here seems to take my presence as an insult.” 

She snorted. “They’re idiots then. You’ve got power, that’s all that’s required.” 

There was another pause as he looked up at her in surprise. His grey eyes narrowed momentarily, and he studied her face as though gauging her sincerity. “You don’t fight like the other Acolytes,” he observed. “Why?” 

“I was at the Dromund Kaas Academy before coming here.” She straightened, bomb in place, and turned to look at him. “Move.” 

They darted out of the egg chamber and pressed against the wall as the explosives went off with an immensely satisfying _boom-squelch-shriek_ that Marlitharn enjoyed every moment of. “Should make things a little safer,” she said with a self-satisfied smirk painting over her mouth. At least one thing had gone right. 

“Huh. I’m surprised you care.” 

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why she wouldn’t, but she knew. Caring was a weakness, and not one she would show this man she had just met. 

From the look of him, he was a little younger than she was. Though it was hard to tell with the beard. She didn’t actually know when human males sprouted facial hair, but she was pretty sure it was a maturity thing. Akin to the mating plumage of a bird. 

“I’m Marlitharn,” she said, offering her name as the halfway point to asking for his. 

“Katsulas.” 

“Do you know anything about an Acolyte called _Vemrin_?” she asked, seeing no point in wasting time. “Apparently he wants to kill me.” 

Katsulas paused to consider and then frowned. “Human? Redhead with an attitude?” 

“No idea,” she shrugged, “though I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s vying for Darth Baras’s attention.” 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Katsulas leaned against the wall. “I don’t know much, but if you want to swap favors I would be happy to keep an eye out.” 

She looked down at him and found his grey eyes locked on hers with steely determination. “What sort of favors?” 

“You have more combat training than I do, but I watch people. More importantly, we’re not in competition; I’m competing to be noticed by Lord Zash.” 

Marlitharn had never heard of a Lord Zash, which was hopefully a good sign. 

_You Are Too Trusting._

They fought their way out of Ajunta Pall’s tomb together. Marlitharn tore through grave robbers with a skill beyond the average acolyte but it was Katsulas who knew the path, the twisting, hidden passages that lead them along safer routes back to the sunlight. 

They reached the exit near sundown. 

“Tomorrow,” Marlitharn said, pointing to the side of one of Korriban’s crumbling temples. “There, we’ll discuss this arrangement further.” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

She left him there and made her way into the Academy. The architecture was both severe and eloquent, reminiscent but not identical to the tombs that dotted the valley. Newer, maintained, but just as regal. 

The statues looked like her. Stern features with tendrils and bonespurs, narrowed eyes and expressions. Done in pitch black stone but they were sith as she was sith. 

She didn’t know why that was comforting but she held her head a little higher in their presence. 

She was directed to Overseer Tremel’s office and stopped in the hallway by a human male, pale this time, with short red hair shaved in lines down the back of his head. He opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off. 

“Hello Vemrin,” she took a stab in the dark (luckily not literally yet) and satisfaction in the way his eyes widened just enough to tell her he had hoped to introduce himself. “Can the threats wait? I’m due to speak with the Overseer.” 

“I won’t be trifled with, bitch. I _earned_ my place here.” 

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes. “You have an imagined grievance at my expense. I have done nothing but be transferred. If you’re _that_ annoyed try plotting against the Overseer.” Her nostrils flared. “But _first_ get out of my way.” She looked to his lug of a friend who had one hand hovering above his hilt. “Oh please, _boy_ , be my guest.” 

“No, Dolgis,” Vemrin said, stopping his friend before he could move. “This isn’t Balmorra. There are rules here, traditions.” He looked at Marlitharn. “We’ll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his pathetic last hope here.” 

She wanted to kill him, but he was right. There were rules, traditions, and they were more important than one glancing blow to her ego. 

“You must be _exceedingly_ popular.” 

“Next time, don’t imagine I’ll play so nice. The old man waited too long to make his move.” 

“You could strike fear into a stone,” she rolled her eyes.

“Coming Dolgis?” Vemrin called his friend the way a master called a hound. 

“Be right there, Vemrin.” 

There was a pause and then Dolgis opened his mouth, making sure Vemrin was out of earshot. “Listen to me you useless priss. Acolytes aren’t allowed to murder each other but accidents happe--” 

Marli closed her will around his throat, just tight enough to be uncomfortable and forced him to his toes. “Oops.” She let him go and he stumbled back. “Save your breath, toady. I have places to be.” 

She knocked him into the wall and breezed past to Overseer Tremel’s office. 

The Overseer was arguing with a young woman, also human, who looked enough like him that Marlitharn wasn’t surprised to learn they were related. She raised one eyebarb and waited for Tremel’s foul-tempered daughter to leave them. 

“Don’t mind Eskella,” Overseer Tremel advised. “She’s just sore that I’m keeping secrets. She growls, but she’s loyal.” 

“As long as she doesn’t make herself my problem, she’s not my problem.” 

“I thought I heard Vemrin’s voice in the corridor before you arrived. Did he make his move so soon.” 

“He barked.” Marlitharn shrugged. “His friend is going to get himself killed.” 

“If he didn’t attack, he must not fully comprehend the threat you represent. Good. Good.” Overseer Tremel nodded to himself. “Still, I’d hoped we’d have more time. Vemrin’s not the type to sniff around for too long before trying to take a bite.” 

“What _is_ your problem with him?” Marlitharn asked. “Is it just that he’s an asshole?” 

Overseer Tremel wrinkled his nose. “In a drive for sheer _numbers_ , the criteria for Academy admittance has been relaxed. Now anyone with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance. _Vemrin_ is mixed blood.” 

Marlitharn stared at him. 

“The invisible rot eating at the foundation of the Empire. He must not be allowed to advance.” 

“You’re an elitist prick,” she said immediately. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“‘Pure’ bloodlines lead to incest and crumbling empires,” Marlitharn pointed out. “But, whatever, you’re the Overseer.” 

“I _am_ ,” he reminded her, fixing her with a studious gaze. “It’s the Sith Way. Only the best, only the most _pure_ , should be good enough.” He gave a tired sigh. “Unfortunately, Vemrin’s caught the eye of Darth Baras. He’s being groomed to be Baras’s new apprentice.” 

“And I’m here to take that position instead,”

“Exactly. As Darth Baras’s apprentice, the power at Vemrin’s fingertips will be considerable. He could change the Sith for the worse. You must proceed to your next trial _immediately_. I want you to interrogate three prisoners in the Academy jails and decide their fates.” 

It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that such a task might be better left to someone with even the vaguest legal understanding, but she wasn’t sure how much more glib the Overseer would take. 

“Okay.” 

“Consider each criminal’s story carefully. The decisions you make will be scrutinized, so let your passions guide your judgements.” 

“Very well.” 

“Return to me when you’ve finished.”

She inclined her head as politely as she could force herself, turned, and left. 

* * *

The Academy prison was easy to find if you reasoned that it would be near the interrogation chambers and then just followed the chorus of screams. Marlitharn found it unsettling, and for that was ashamed of herself. 

Still, the whole wing carried the slightest trace of burned hair and smoked skin and she let that sooth and calm her. Reminding her of who she was. Of _home_. 

She couldn’t remember what about the scent was grounding, but she also didn’t care. It made her think of strong hands holding her aloft and soft lips touched to her forehead. Spinning unbound through the air. 

“One more chirp out of you, little bird,” the jailer snarled at one of the cages as Marli turned into the room. 

“Chirp,” replied a pretty twi’lek girl. There was a good-sized bruise on her cheek but her brow was raised to be mocking despite that. “Chirp chirp!” She arched back, spasming and crying out at the jailer pushed a button. Marlitharn’s eyes narrowed at the jailer’s thumb. It would be easy enough to reach out and bend it back, snap it off as she flung him into the wall. 

“OW!” The twi’lek shook herself. “ _Jerk_. If you didn’t like that, I can do other impressions. Dire Cat, Frogdog, kowakian monkey lizard.” She held her head up high, unbowed and unbroken and Marlitharn felt she might have fallen a little bit in love with this slave who should have been beneath her notice. 

But she wasn’t. She very much wasn’t and Marlitharn wasn’t sure if that was because she was lovely or because the jailer had already proven himself a prat.

Marlitharn caught the twi’lek’s eyes and smiled. 

She received a smile, one confused and just a little scared, but a smile regardless in return. 

“Don’t encourage her,” the jailer spat. “I’m jailer Knash. I run these cells and slave pits. You’re the acolyte Tremel sent for the test, right?” He eyed her with open disdain. “He thinks highly of you.” 

“Let’s just get on with it,” Marlitharn suggested. 

“No skin off my rump,” Knash shrugged. He gestured to three small cages past where the mouthy Twi’lek was held. “Now, there three prisoners have been transferred here for your inspection. You gotta interrogate them as needed and then decide their fate.” 

“What are the usual options?” 

Knash leaned against a crate. “The convicted are usually executed or given a trial by combat to see if they’re worthy. Whatever you decide, _you_ will be the one carrying out the sentence.” 

“He pretty much just pushes the--” the twi’lek was cut off by another sharp shock. “Button!” She shouted defiantly before hitting the floor. 

“Seems unnecessary,” Marlitharn said. “She hasn’t broken yet, why bother?” 

“It’s not always about breaking them, but trust me, she’ll crack.” 

Marlitharn tried not to think about it. There had been something in the scream, the way the twi’lek had shouted the end of her sentence, that made Marlitharn’s head and chest ache. 

_Oh yeah, Marli the big bad---aaaaaargh----sith!_

Her head throbbed. “Let’s get started.” 

* * *

Her irritation with Tremel grew throughout his criticism of her choices with the prisoners. He approved of her decision to send the spy to Imperial Intelligence, but that was really the only choice of the three he agreed with. The warrior, he said, should have been ‘eradicated’ on account of no longer being useful. Marlitharn couldn’t help but feel that his claim that there “wasn’t time to honor yesterday’s achievements” rang hollow in these halls dedicated to the blood soaked legacy of her ancestors. The forger, who had been innocent, she had released and be en berated for because now he had seen the inside of the Academy. 

From a cell. 

Yes, _surely_ he would feed that information to a Republic general who would _definitely_ listen to him. 

She was tired. She let her hate wash through her limbs like fire, burning away the lethargy. “I’ll try harder, Overseer,” she said in a dull, annoyed voice. 

Tremel glared. “If you don’t, you’re doomed. Remember that.” He straightened, arms held stiffly behind his back. “Because I transferred you so abruptly, Darth Baras will be predisposed to judging you severely. And by _severely_ , I mean fatally.” 

“Yes, I figured that,” Marlitharn nodded, trying and largely failing to reign in the insubordination in her tone. 

Overseer Tremel cleared his throat. “ _Now_ , we must hurry to your next trial.” 

She wanted the throttle him. She hadn’t had a moment to herself since she _arrived_ on this sandbox. 

“Every moment that passes we risk discovery before we’re ready.” 

“Yes, Overseer.” 

“In the caverns of Marka Ragnos is the beast he left to guard his legacy. Go there, sit among the flames, and wait for the beast to come to you.” 

“I assume you want me to kill it?” 

“Yes. Hold nothing back, Acolyte. This creature is doom itself.” 

She nodded and wondered if she should feel afraid. She didn’t, she _wasn’t_. She thought about The Lord Wrath and wondered how any other creature could be considered _doom_ while he stalked the galaxy doing the Emperor’s will. 

Thinking about Lord Scourge hurt, her head twinged and her stomach flooded with warmth. 

She looked back at Overseer Tremel. “I’ll return when the beast is dead.” 

She bowed and excused herself, thinking to grab something to eat before she embarked into the desert. 

The cantina was small but lively, Marlitharn passed no fewer than two disputes on her way to the counter that were on the cusp of violence. She figured at least three of the acolytes involved would be dead by morning, hopefully “mysteriously” unless they were all somehow dumber than they looked. 

She ordered a handful of pre-packaged protein bars, not trusting that Vemrin wouldn’t have gone out of his way to ensure her food was poisoned. While waiting for her order she spotted Katsulas lurking in the dark. They caught eyes and she indicated the door with hers, receiving a small nod. 

He was the nearest thing to a friend she possessed, and that was a bond worth nurturing. 

Katsulas met her by the cantina entrance and followed her out through the Academy and under the crisp, cloudless night sky. The desert was cold in the dark, the heat that had baked the sands dying with the light. Marlitharn hopped onto a crumbling wall and offered Katsulas a hand up. He held his hand up peaceably, rather than taking hers. “I’ll pass, I never trust those things not to crumble out from under me.”

“Fair enough,” she made herself comfortable and took out two of her protein bars. She handed him one.

Katsulas stared at the morsel before opening it. “So, how was your first day at Sunny Korriban Academy?” he asked with mock brightness. “Vemrin was in a huff.” 

Marlitharn chuckled. “I hate this planet and this Academy, but at least hate makes me strong. _Vemrin’s_ a pissant.” 

He laughed at that. Not a dark chuckle, nor a derisive sneer, but a bright laugh. “He _is_ , from what I’ve seen anyway.” 

“How about you? Are you having an alright time?” 

“Fuck no,” Katsulas shrugged. “The Overseer has it in for me, as do three of the acolytes in my group. They’ll make their move soon.” He frowned. “I’m not certain I’m ready.” 

“You’ll have to be,” Marlitharn said. “I’ll help if I can but I’m heading into the Valley of Dark Lords to murder a beast that belonged to Marka Ragnos.” 

Kat pushed away from the wall and looked up at her. “Ironic, I’m heading into the Tomb of Marka Ragnos in search of an artifact for Lord Zash.”

Marlitharn’s eyes widened and a smile crept over her stern features. “Really?” 

Katsulas gave a small smile of his own in response. “You know, there’s safety in numbers.” 

Marlitharn nodded. 

“And I feel _terribly_ unsafe.” 

“I could use the company,” she mused. She felt lonely, like someone or someone _s_ were missing. “I’ll help you find your artifact and then slay the beast, though I likely have to do that on my own.” 

_At any moment he will turn on you_

She wasn’t afraid. She wondered idly if that was insulting to her companion or not. 


	3. The last trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn finished her training on Korriban and gets a new traveling companion

The Valley of The Dark Lords was more of the same. Monuments chiseled into the canyon face marked the entrances of tombs long ago covered by Korriban’s changing sands. Someone had gone to great length to unearth these ruins, and Marlitharn wasn’t entirely sure _why_. They were majestic, of course, but it seemed like a lot of extra trouble for secrets that each Sith individually would try to horde. 

But her place wasn’t to question at present. Presently, her place was to kill. 

And she was good at it. She rolled to the side at the last second and held out her warblade, letting the charging tuk’ata cripple itself before she force snapped it’s neck. 

“You’re . . . “ Katsulas mulled the words over, studying her with his head to one side. “A little bit terrifying.” 

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, very, but it means I’ve thought of the favor for you to pay me back with.” 

Marlitharn raised an eyebarb and waited silently for an answer, one eye keeping an eye on their surroundings. 

“Teach me some of what you know.” 

“We don’t really have time,” Marlitharn said. “And we use different--I do know how to use one of those, or I’ve . . . I’ve fought people who used polesabers before.” 

_You’re holding it wrong, Marli. Back hand should be in the join of your hip, that’s where the power comes from_

Marlitharn squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ward off the pulsing white light. 

“Marlitharn?” Katsulas asked. 

“It’s nothing,” she said, maybe too quickly to be really credible. “We should find a place to camp and then I’ll show you what I can.” 

The Polesaber was not her specialty, but they ran a few short sparring matches and she showed him how to change his footwork to be more aggressive when he needed to close and how to use the shaft to grappled by catching his opponent in the temple and then binding and throwing them to the ground. 

She couldn’t remember who had showed her these tricks. 

She thought she remembered a smile. 

Her head _ached_ by the time they were finished and she settled on the cold hard ground to watch the small fire. Part of the trial may have been survival skills. She didn’t recall learning how to ward off the chill at Dromund Kaas but she tugged her will around her like a blanket to coat her limbs. 

Katsulas shivered at her side. 

She scooted closer to him and prodded the fire they’d build back to life. “We should take turns resting,” she advised. She could _feel_ the suspicion twisting in Katsulas’s thoughts and she couldn’t even be annoyed about it. If _he_ had suggested it, she would have suspected duplicity. “I’ll rest first, wake me in about four hours.” She stretched out on her back and then rolled to her side, one hand on the hilt of her vibroblade and her senses tuned to notice danger before it struck. 

She was poked with a stick what she assumed was several hours later and rolled away, vibroblade ready, to face her assailant. The “assailant” turned out to be an exhausted looking Katsulas holding the stick they’d been using to keep the fire alive. 

The adrenaline eased out of Marlitharn’s system and she stretched and rolled her sore muscles and joints. “That time already?” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

_If I call you ‘Master’ can I get five more minutes?_

“Clever idea, using the stick.” 

“You’ve got soot of your shirt, not that anyone’ll notice over the black but, yeah, seemed the better option compare to decapitation.” He gave her a tired smile and she returned it.

“Get some sleep.”

“Plan Aurek.” 

He curled up on the ground and Marlitharn sat beside him. Her breath fogged up when it left her lips, but the cold was nothing unendurable. 

“Marlitharn?” 

“Sleep.” 

“Why were you crying?” 

Marlitharn blinked, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Get some sleep.” She unwrapped a protein bar and chewed thoughtfully, waiting for the sun to rise. 

Her eyes were dry. 

_He Was Lying_

* * *

They reached the tomb soon after she woke Katsulas using the same stick. There was history in the rock here that _she_ didn’t know but Kat supplied, about how Darth Malak had had these tombs excavated three hundred years ago. How they hadn’t been picked dry yet due to jedi interference and the traps that lay within. Marlitharn half-listened, watching her peripheries for danger. 

Upon entry they found the tomb full of looters, failed acolytes, and K’lorslugs. Marlitharn’s blood began to race as she sliced through all the opposition thrown in their way, carving a swatch of k’lorslug legs and severed heads. 

“The artifact I need is this way,” Katsulas said after making quick study of some glyphs on the wall. “And it looks like your beast should be that way.” 

“We’ll meet back at the entrance,” she told him. “I’ll wait a day for you.” 

Katsulas gave her an appreciative smile and a nod. “And I’ll wait a day for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

She followed the pathway in the dark, wishing she had a lightsaber to use as a light source and settling for relying on her danger sense. She walked slowly, one foot searching for the next stable rest while the other held most of her weight. She listened to the slither of the k’lorslugs and the screams of the looters. 

And at length she found light. An undisturbed chamber lit by four ancient braziers that blazed blue. She wondered what kept them lit, but not enough to let that delay her. Overseer Tremel had her to sit amongst the flames and wait for the beast to come to her. Marlitharn was not the patient sort. 

She closed her eyes and tried to meditate. 

_ you’ve never been great at that, kid _

Marlitharn cried out, the sound bouncing and echoing around the close stone wall to rip into her ears. Her head felt like someone had tried to take a hammer and chisel to it. She clucthed her temples, willing the agony to stop and then she heard the rumble and the crack of stone. Looking up she watched a massive taloned arm break free of entombment. She exhaled and grabbed her weapons, ignoring the stinging in her eyes and the ringing in her ears. The beast pulled itself free and Marlitharn rocketed towards it. She blocked a high swipe of its talons with one sword and followed up with a spin-kick aimed for one giant eye. The kick landed and bought her time to get below the monster’s center of gravity. 

She channeled her fury and the pain in her head. The vibroblades were poorly suited for slicing the monster’s thick hide but she forced the blade through, lips pressed tightly shut in case the blood was toxic as it splashed over her face. 

When the beast was dead she set to removing its teeth to take as proof of her victory. With her vibroblade she carved both sharp incisors from the monster’s jaw and tucked them away, the bloody roots sticking out of her small bag. 

With her task completed she headed back towards the entrance to wait for Katsulas. He joined her in not too much time, looking only a little worse for wear. 

“Success?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Success. And you?”

She nodded and gestured to the bloody bits of bone poking from her pack. “Yes.” 

* * *

“Good luck,” Katsulas told her as the returned to the Academy grounds. 

Marli, returned it with one of her own. “And to you.” 

She yawned, blinking to force her eyes to adjust to the difference in brightness between the desert and the Academy. It was fortunate that the entrance was always watched or else she imagined acolytes would perpetually strike at their rivals during the temporary blindness.

She was just glad Vemrin didn’t seem to be that stupid. 

As she turned down the vacated corridor that lead to Tremel’s office, however, she noticed that Dolgis _was_. She wondered if Vemrin had sent him or if he was trying to take the initiative. 

“Well, look who’s here. Remember me?” 

She gave him a put upon sigh in response. “Vemrin’s lackey,” she said with a sigh. “D something, Dolgis.” 

“Very good,” he said slowly, as though speaking to a simpleton. “It’s good to know the name of your killer.” 

Ah. Well, at least he was straightforward. 

“Notice anything _interesting?_ ” 

He opened his mouth to continue speaking and Marli rushed him. She socked him hard in the throat and blocked his wrist as it went for the hilt of his sword. He’d been expecting a duel, which meant his footwork was all wrong for a fist fight. He had weight on her, but she had speed and the drop. One last good kick to the head and Dolgis hit the ground. 

“No witnesses,” she said, drawing her sword. “No rules. Was that your point?”

“Wait wait, I was wrong about you--”

There was no sizzle when her sword lopped his head away from his body. She missed the sizzle. The smell. The satisfaction. 

He was wrong, now he was dead.

She allowed the small smile to curve over her mouth at the victory. 

Maybe soon she’d be able to get off this loth-cat box. 

_Well Done_

She finished the brief walk to Tremel’s office at twice the speed, not wanting to be near the body when it was found. Tremel was sitting at his desk looking _concerned_. He had his elbows on the surface, hands clasped together in front of his chin. “We must speak quickly, Acolyte. There isn’t much time.” 

Marlitharn’s shoulders dropped with disappointment. If it wasn’t one thing, it tended to be another. 

“I may have made a slight miscalculation,” Tremel said, standing and walking around his desk. “The beast of Marka Ragnos was a great source of dark energy here on Korriban. When it was slain, there was a tremor in the Force.” 

Marlitharn thought to the incisors in her pack and wondered if picking them up had been a waste of time. It certainly hadn’t been easy. 

“Darth Baras felt that tremor and has become aware of you. He demands an audience.” 

“Anything in specific I should know?”

“Baras is a serious man but a master of deception. Everything he does and says is calculated. He will attempt to trip you up, test your nature, get to the heart of who you are. Always take him seriously.” Overseer Tremel narrowed his eyes. “And I mean _always_.” 

“Consider me warned.” It had definitely been a waste of time grab the teeth. Damned. 

“We might not speak again,” Tremel shook his head like this was something he was upset about. “You’re the best chance of stopping Vemrin. IF you fail, I doubt there will be another strong enough. Good luck.” 

Marlitharn wanted to point out that she didn’t give a single, lonely fuck about Vemrin, stopping him or otherwise. She bit her tongue, antagonizing the Overseer would have been a mistake. 

But _sweet Force_ why was any of this her problem? 

She left Tremel’s office and spared only the briefest glance at Dolgis’s body, wondering who would tell someone it was there. Most acolytes likely wouldn’t mention it if they were alone. No one wanted to be the first person connected to a corpse. 

* * *

Marlitharn took a deep breath outside of the room where Baras was waiting for her. She rolled her shoulders, working out some of the tension so she could present at least a little trace of calm. She wasn’t going to fool him, and she didn’t expect to, but the _effort_ mattered. 

_You have to at least pretend to care what Master Kaedan thinks_

She winced and pushed the pain back. If she had a chance, after speaking with Baras, she’d head to the infirmary and speak with a nice, non-judgemental, medical droid about something for her headaches. This was untenable. 

The pain subsided and she made her way through the stone doorway to where Darth Baras (a man of average height just the other side of overweight) was talking to his collection of supplicants. He sent them away but Vemrin, being Vemrin, had to pause in the doorway to talk to her. His eyes narrowed with displeasure, probably figuring out that Dolgis was dead. 

“Vemrin,” Baras said from across the room, “you have been dismissed.” 

“Yes master.” Vemrin shoulder checked her as he passed. “I underestimated you by sending Dolgis. It will not happen again.” 

“What? Out of lackeys?” She sniped back, never taking her eyes of Darth Baras. 

Vemrin left and Marlitharn made her way to the center of the room. She took stock of Darth Baras, he sounded older, but strong. He wore long silver robes with a patterned breastplate and a circular mask that made it impossible to tell his species, much less his expression. She assumed he was a human male. Human male seemed like a safe bet. 

“Are you having trouble with Vemrin, supplicant?” Baras asked with a passable impression of concern. 

“Nothing gets under my skin, my lord.” She kept her eyes ahead. 

“He’s fully capable of backing up his threats.” 

“He’ll find that I am as well, my lord.” She felt the dark lord study her for a long, contemplative moment, probably longer than he _actually_ needed to make his assessment. Probably to put her off balance. 

She hated that it was working. She exhaled slowly out her nose and waited as Darth Baras walked around her at a lazy pace. Measuring her the way he might chattel. 

“How long were you at The Dromund Kaas academy?” he asked. 

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Not long. Before that my training was handled by a personal instructor.” The blinding white started behind her eyes, forcing them to water. She fought to ignore it. 

Baras nodded, his hands folded behind his back. “Tremel thinks to meddle in my affairs, does he?” 

Marlitharn shrugged. “He sees it as attempting to keep the Sith pure, I think.” She failed entirely to keep the disdain out of her voice. _Pure_ , like that was something the Sith had ever been. 

“And your thoughts, Apprentice.” 

“I think he’s an idiot, My Lord,” she said. 

“Recite the code for me.” He paused behind her, where she couldn’t even read his body language. 

It was an arbitary request, but fine. She could recite the _code_. Her mouth opened and the wrong words rushed to full it. 

_There is no emotion there is peace_

“Peace is a lie,” Marlitharn said, swallowing the heresy before it could spill out. “There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength.” 

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge_

“Through strength, I gain power.” 

_There is no passion, there is serenity_

“Through power I gain victory” 

_There is no chaos, there is harmony_

“Through victory my chains are broken.”

_There is no death, there is the Force._

“The Force shall set me free,” she finished. The headache was back, thudding dully behind her eyes. Like her brain was beating desperately against the inside of her skull. 

_ Marli wake up. _

_ Wake up, Gorgeous. _

“Something troubling you, supplicant?” Baras asked, his tone as slick as a serpent. He almost sounded concerned and, given what Tremel had told her, that was enough to make Marlitharn worry. 

He was not her friend or ally. He was another trial, one more lethal than the beast of Marka Ragnos. 

“A headache, my lord.” She shook her head. “I’ve had one all day.” 

“It seems severe.” 

“It hasn’t impeded my abilities,” Marlitharn replied immediately. She wasn’t going to give Darth Baras the impression of weakness. Not so soon, not _ever_ , if she could help it. 

“Let us test that, supplicant,” Baras walked around her so he was in front of her. “ _I_ am your master now. Tremel was becoming lax _before_ you ever arrived. His unwillingness to adapt to the evolving Sith paradigm has become a liability. These are the actions of a traitor.” 

Marlitharn wasn’t sure she agreed with that. The actions of an _idiot_ , yes, but not really treasonous. 

“Traitors are executed.” She thought she heard a smile in Baras’s words, but it was hard to be sure. “I grant you immunity from punishment. Kill Tremel and bring back his hand as proof.” 

Marlitharn bowed. “Of course, Master.” 

She headed back downstairs and took a moment to breath beneath one of the carved black statues. Maybe once Tremel was dead Darth Baras would release her long enough to sleep. 

It didn’t seem fair, being forced into combat against and Overseer while she was exhausted with a throbbing headache. Fair, however, was not a sith virtue, so she could neither complain or be particularly surprised. 

She could be _annoyed,_ however, and she was. She ate her last protein bar and made her way back down towards Tremel’s quarters. 

Someone had moved Dolgis’s body and made a token effort to clean up the blood. Vibroblades left _a lot_ of blood behind, another thing one didn’t have to worry about with a proper lightsaber. 

Overseer Tremel looked up when she entered. His eyes widened a little and he tilted his head in bemusement. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Has Baras sent you back to me?” 

“Something like that,” Marlitharn said. “He wants me to kill you for treason.” 

“ _Treason_?” Tremel restated the charge and then stroked his chin in thought. “I’ve been outplayed. Baras has the authority, but I did not think he would do something this overt.” 

Marlitharn shrugged.

“Either I die or he forces me to kill you and thus destroy my own plan. A master stroke.” 

Actually it seemed kind of obvious to Marlitharn when put like that, but she wasn’t the Sith mastermind, she was only an acolyte. Maybe there were reasons it was something Tremel hadn’t seen coming. Maybe he’d assumed that a man like Darth Baras would just come at him sideways. Maybe he’d been banking on remaining undiscovered. 

It didn’t matter. 

Tremel sighed and stood. “Very well. You have your orders, acolyte. Know that it gives me no pleasure to kill you.” 

She lifted one eyebarb in response. 

“You’re strong, acolyte.” He ignited his lightsaber. “But you’re not _Sith_ yet. I’ll try to make your end quick and painless. It’s the least I can do.” 

Tremel threw a hand out and a wave smacked Marlitharn in the chest, sending her into the wall. She rolled to the side as he leapt at her, lightsaber singing as it went through the stone. 

_Whoever told you Jedi only fight fair dealt with dead Jedi_

Marli kicked Tremel in the shin, hard, and then kicked him in the side of the knee. Tremel grunted with pain and Marlitharn was back on her feet, blade out. The blade _might_ have been plated with cortosis but she hadn’t checked and she wasn’t going to gamble on it. 

That meant she had to be offense. She sprang forward and then Force-shunted herself to the side at the last moment. Tremel’s blade sliced nothing but air. Hers went through his arm right at the elbow. 

Tremel hit the floor, gasping. “No. I’m . . . amazed.” He looked up at her, bleeding and broken and still somehow smiling. “I knew you were strong in the Force but not . . . like this. You’re more than ready to challenge Vemrin--”

“I have never cared about Vemrin or your ideas of purity,” she interrupted. “You fought well, die with your head held high.” 

He raised his chin and she opened his throat, blood splattering over her hips, chest and the floor. Marli flicked the gore off her weapon and picked up the severed arm, hoping Baras wasn’t the sort to be picky with semantics. 

She made her way back upstairs and _most_ people had the sense to ignore that she was bloody and carrying a severed human arm. A few people stared, fewer still pointed. Still, the guards remained at their posts and so Baras must have spread the word where it was _important_ that she had permission for a murder. 

“The Acolyte returns,” Baras said as she entered the room. “With a bloodied weapon and the hand of the traitor, give it to me.” 

Marlitharn handed Baras the arm, grateful that he didn’t seem perturbed that she’d brought him the whole thing. 

He plucked off Tremel’s ring and held it out to her. “Here. Take this ring as a memento. Remembering the past can strengthen resolve and embolden the spirit.” 

_ Remember, Marli. Remember.  _

Marlitharn took the ring with a deferential nod. “Yes, master.” 

“I am impressed you had the fortitude to destroy him. You know, he thought of you as family.” Baras tilted his head to the side when Marlitharn snorted in disbelief. “How did it feel to betray him?” 

“Overseer Tremel saw me as a pawn,” Marlitharn said. “I was never his pawn. I did what was necessary and am unconflicted about it.” 

“You mask your feelings well, Acolyte,” Baras said. “So long as you do not suppress them. So long as you are _Sith_.” Baras turned to look at one of the intricate carvings on his wall. “By embracing the code and destroying Tremel, you have freed yourself from his shackles.” He looked back over his shoulder. “And escaped his fate.” 

She didn’t feel much like she’d escaped anything, but she wasn’t inclined to argue. “I understand.” 

“Better. I thought you’d be a quick learner. Now, rest. In the morning you will return to the Valley of the Dark Lords. There you will find the tomb of Tulak Hord. The ancient inscriptions that once adorned the walls of the shrines lie in pieces. You will venture through the entire tomb and bring me a shard from each of these inscriptions or you will die.” 

She nodded, it seemed straightforward enough. 

“Vemrin and my other acolytes have already been sent. There are no rules for how they secure the shards, and they will start at nothing. You are at a disadvantage.” 

She nodded a second time, figuring that the disadvantage was likely on purpose. To punish her or test her for having things easy to this point. 

“Go,” Baras gestured for her to leave. “And do not return without the inscriptions.” 

She bowed and left, turning towards the acolyte chambers and the bed that was waiting for her. 

* * *

There was a slave uprising in the middle of the valley, because of course there was. Marlitharn wondered how many of Baras’s other acolytes had been caught in it. It felt like an unkind hope. 

But at least then _she_ wouldn’t have to kill them. 

Marlitharn tugged the Force close around her, masking her for the few seconds it took to slip into the first ruin undetected. She found a shard, the inscription worn, but visible, and backtracked through the shyracks. She did this twice more and by the end she had three shards and a trail of dead shyracks marking her path. She passed Katsulas as she left through one of the tombs and gave him a small smile in passing, receiving one in return., and climbed the many steps up towards the Academy grounds with her attention peeled for one of Baras’s other acolytes.

She was unharried most of the way to the Academy entrance and then warning bells went off in her head. She turned, already drawing her weapon, and blocked the strike from a red faced human male she wasn't sure she recognized. She shoved him up and back and then pointed the tip of her sword at his throat. “Let me guess, kill me, take my shards?” 

He nodded, staring at the sword tip. “I tried to get through the tomb, but there were just too many shyrack. I barely escaped.” 

“So you thought fighting someone who _survived_ what nearly killed you was the better option?” Marli asked. “ _Really_? 

“I made a mistake.” 

“Yes you did.” She didn’t move her weapon point. 

“Vemrin is already inside with Baras. All the other acolytes died. You were my only chance. Now I’m doomed, I’ll never become Sith. Unless I return with the shards, Baras will have me killed.” 

“If you’re dead either way, you can either go back to the tomb or you can try and run. But if you try and take my shards, I will save Baras the trouble of killing you.” 

“I--I can’t go back in there. I just can’t.” He exhaled. “I’ve head of a mad hermit living in one of the tombs who welcomes failures from the trials. Maybe I’ll . . . seek him out.” 

“Best of luck with that.” She sheathed her sword and watched him leave, wondering if he was going to die or not. The thought . . . nearly pained her. 

“Ah, the prodigal supplicant returns,” Baras said as Marlitharn entered the office. “And with all the shards from the tomb of Tulak Hord. Superb.” He added as she offered the trio of wall pieces over. “It seems your hopes have been dashed, Vemrin.” 

“Looks can be deceptive,” Vemrin spat. 

“Excuse Vemrin, supplicant,” Baras batted the comment away with his wrist. “He expected you to fall on your face.” 

“How nice for him.” Marlitharn shrugged, utterly indifferent. 

“The tension is thick between you,” Baras said with something close to a chuckle. “A great source of emotion to feed on. I wonder what will happen when it boils over.” 

_Probably,_ Marlitharn thought, _one of us will die. Hopefully Vemrin._

“You both stand on the precipice of becoming Sith.” Baras continued. “But only one of you willl have the opportunity to claim a special lightsaber and serve as my apprentice. I thought it would be you, Vemrin.” Baras shook his head minutely. “But I’ve changed my mind.” He looked at Marlitharn. 

“What!?” Vemrin demanded. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked! Better than any of the others! The honor should be _mine!_ ” 

“It will be done,” Marlitharn gave a small bow. 

“It was a simple decision,” he said, “there is a power sleeping within you.” He turned his attention back towards the fuming Vemrin. “Now, Vemrin, go wait in my antechamber for your instructions.” 

Vemrin looked ready to mutiny. 

“This _instant_.” 

Vemrin’s nose wrinkled and his lips twitched with a snarl but he turned and left. Baras’s disposition cleared so quickly Marlitharn knew it was faked. She was almost surprised by his decision, but then she thought about it. 

Baras was all about _subtlety_. 

_Vemrin_ had the subtlety of a herniated bantha. 

“Now, Marlitharn,” he used her name for the first time. “I hope you fathom how fortunate you are to be singled out. If you become my apprentice, that galaxy will bend before you.” 

“It is an honor.” 

“The lightsaber you will seek is old and powerful.” 

_I couldn’t have thought of a better trial_

“It is housed in a forbidden cavern in the tomb of Naga Sadow where few Sith have ever set foot.” Baras folded his hands behind his back and began to pace. “Almost no one knows how to find the secret entrance, but there is a Twi’lek in the holding pens who was caught breaking in there.” 

“Wow,” Marlitharn said. “That takes courage.” 

“Indeed. I hear she is quite willful. Take her and _make_ her show you the entrance to the Forbidden Cave.” 

Marlitharn nodded. “I can do that.” 

“Other Acolytes seeking to complete their trials are sent to the tomb, where Academy laws are waived. They will try to murder you. 

_Just like everyone else_. 

“This final test will determine if you become Sith. So, bolster yourself. To set foot in the tomb of Naga Sadow is to breath in death itself.” 

* * *

Marlitharn entered the holding cells a second time and turned her eyes immediately to Knash as he spoke. “So, I hear you’ll be relieving me of this Twi’lek. She’s a pain in the neck.” 

“Ha!” said the twi’lek. “ _Who’s_ a pain in the neck? I’m the one wearing the shock collar.” 

Marlitharn had to admit that that was a pretty good point. 

“Hrmph,” Knash crossed his arms. His thumb inched over the button and then he pressed down, administering another sharp shock. “Consider that a going away present, twi’lek. Seems you might be useful for something after all--this bruiser is taking you into the tomb where we caught you.” 

The twi’lek smiled. It was a defiant “I’m not broken yet” sort of smile, but it was directed at Marlitharn and Marlitharn could help but think that there was a glimmer of hope in the twi’lek’s eyes. “None of you can figure out how to activate the tomb statues to open the forbidden cavern, huh?” she asked, almost teasing. 

“That’s the gist of it,” Marlitharn replied. 

“You got some kind of business in that secret sith chamber, do you?”

“Yep. And your help would be invaluable.” 

“Don’t bother being pleasant,” Knash scoffed. Being pleasant had likely never occurred to him. Ever. In any situation. “Here, take this shock control collar. I’ll set it to a higher level, use it enough and she’ll show you the back door to her mother’s house.”

The twi’lek rolled her pretty purple eyes. “I _suppose_ I can play tomb tour guide. A lot of work went into cracking that nut, but I did it once.” She nodded confidently. “I can do it again.” 

Marlitharn tucked the control rod into a pocket, disgusted by its very existence but unable to actually tell Knash to shove it up his urethra. 

“So we’re on clear,” the twi’lek said as the cage door swung open. “I’m _officially_ on strike when it comes to domestic duties.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind?” Marlitharn offered. 

The twi’lek blinked a few times and then her small softened, some of the bravado dripping away. “Well then, maybe things are looking up for me. As if they could get worse.” 

They left the jail, Vette on Marlitharn’s heels. “I’m Marlitharn and I’d rather not just call you _twi’lek_ so--” 

“Vette. My name is Vette.” 

“Pretty name.” Marlitharn said before she caught herself. “Er. That is--yeah. It’s a good name. You must be fond of it.” 

“I . . . guess?” 

* * *

Marlitharn stopped short of the tomb entrance and reached into her pocket. She took out the control rod and Vette’s eyes widened. 

“Here,” Malrlitharn offered it over. “I hate these things but you might feel more comfortable if I _didn’t_ have it.” 

Vette blinked. “Thanks,” she said quietly, tucking the rod away.

Marlitharn shrugged. “It just seems like the right thing to do.” She rolled her shoulders back. “Stay close to me, Vette. I’ll protect you. 

Just as Baras had promised, the other acolytes within the tomb tried to kill her. Marli fought them off, keeping their attention on herself instead of Vette while Vette activated the statutes that would open the secret chamber. 

“Hey,” Vette said, reaching over and tapping Marlitharn’s shoulder. “This is it. The secret to the hidden cavern is here.” 

Marlitharn looked around, unsure of how Vette could tell (everything looked the same, sith carvings light by eerie purple flame) but confident that she was correct. This was, after all, why she’d been ordered to bring Vette along. 

“Take however long you--” Marlitharn turned and kicked out with one long leg, catching Vemrin in the chest and forcing him backwards. 

“Take your time, slave.” Vemrin said, regaining his balance. “Just have the entrance uncovered by the time I finish killing your new master.” 

“Well,” Marlitharn said in a dull, bored tone. “I am _shocked_.”

“My passions run deeper than yours. I am the true essence of what it is to be _sith_.” 

“You’re about to be the true essence of what it means to be _mud_ ,” Marlitharn pointed out. “This is the only time I’ll offer mercy.” 

Vemrin slapped her blade away with his own and lunged for her face. Marlitharn took three quick step backwards. “Keep working, Vette,” she called. “I have this.” 

Vemrin swung low. Marlitharn hard-blocked and pivoted, catching him in the temple with her toes. He hit the dirt and when he turned to try ad pick himself up found her sword at his neck and her heel on his blade. 

“Becoming Baras’s apprentice was my destiny. Did I come this far and overcome such adversity only to be proven unworthy?” 

“No,” Marlitharn said. “You picked a stupid fight.” She lobbed his head off, quick and clean, and flicked the blood from her sword. 

“Vette would you like a Vibroblade?” 

“No thanks. Nice work though.” 

“Thank you.”

“The secret entrance is right here.” Vette touched something and the colossal statues moved, turning so they bowed to each other, rather than the room at large, and then parting to reveal a hidden walk way. “You’re welcome,” Vette said sarcastically.

“Thank you,” Marlitharn said with utter sincerity. “You’ve been a huge help.” 

Vette’s expression softened as did her tone. “Thanks, it’s nice to be acknowledged.” 

The lightsaber in question was in the sarcophagus at the back of the room. It fit well in Marlitharn’s hand, now quite like it had been made for it, but well. She ignited it and the sound was buzzing and familiar but the color was wrong. A vibrant, bloody red. 

That was traditional. That should have been right. 

It felt wrong. 

Her head hurt. 

“Let’s get back to the Academy.” 

* * *

Marlitharn and Vette turned down an empty corridor and almost immediately into Overseer Tremel’s daughter Eskella. 

“You!” She snarled, pointing at Marlitharn. “Murderer!” 

“That title could apply to more than half the people in this building,” Marlitharn pointed out. “If not to everyone. 

“My father was a staunch traditionalist and he was especially hard on _me_. But he’s my blood. Did you think you could kill him and get away with it?” 

“Who said I killed him?” Marlitharn moved so she was between Eskella and Vette. 

“Everybody says so. The whole place knows you killed him. And now _you_ have to die.” 

Marlitharn was tired. She sighed. “Well, I suppose the whole place can’t be wrong.” 

“You’ll rue the day you took his life.” Eskella drew her war blade and Marlitharn ignited her new lightsaber. The red glowed in Eskella’s widening eyes. 

“I am _Sith_ ,” Marlitharn hissed. “Think carefully about your next move, Eskella Gryton.” 

Slowly, Eskella lowered her warblade. She inclined her head and scarpered. Marlitharn unignited her lightsaber and rolled her stiff shoulders. 

“Did you really kill her dad?” Vette asked. 

“Yes,” Marlitharn answered. “My first trial as one of Baras’s chosen acolytes. Tremel had managed to insult both myself and the Darth.” 

“Wow.” Vette shook her head. “Oh.” She pulled the control rod out of her shirt where she’d hidden it. “In case someone asks.” 

“Thank you for trusting me.” 

“I don’t really have a choice right now.”

They entered Baras’s chamber, Vette standing behind Marlitharn and just to the side. 

“I am _beside_ myself,” Baras praised. “Not only did you get the Twi’lek to cooperate--” Vette shifted her weight uncomfortably as Baras gestured to her-- “but you completed the task and claimed the ancient lightsaber.” 

Marlitharn nodded. 

“Vemrin was not in my chamber as I instructed. I take it he sought to stop you and claim the ancient weapon as his own.” 

“He was nothing if not consistent, my master.” She thought she saw Vette’s mouth twitch to a smirk. 

“Bravo,” Baras said. “I see you may indeed become one of the strongest Sith in the galaxy. Your trials are over. You are now my apprentice.” 

_Congratulations, Knight Marlitharn._

“I look forward to it,” Marlitharn said, warding off the pulsing white behind her eyes. 

“Good, because it’s time to unleash you. This is only the beginning. With you as my right hand, we shall strike fear into the Empire’s enemies.” 

“I must convene with the Emperor and inform him of your progress. This shuttle pass will take you to Dromund Kaas. Meet me at the Citadel there.” 

“Yes, Master.” She could help but feel some relief at being able to _leave_ sandy, unbearable Korriban. 

_I got you something_. _It’s a necklace,_

“Take the Twi’lek slave as my gift,” Baras gestured to Vette again. “Do with her as you wish. If she’ll be of use, by all means take her to Dromund Kaas.” 

_Pureblood Sith wear jewelry for status and to show they’re of age. I’m proud of you._


	4. Kaasian Rains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn runs a minor errand on Dromund Kaas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fiery haired Zabrak is [inkspot_fox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspot_fox/works)'s Sith Warrior Ashlan. He'll be showing up quite a bit.

Marlitharn and Vette had a private room on the transport that would take them from Vaiken Spaceport to Dromund Kaas. Marlitharn purchased a bag of tools before boarding and when they were shut in their room indicated that Vette should sit down in front of her, facing the wall. 

“Why?” 

“I’m taking your collar off,” Marlitharn said. “Unless you like it that much.” 

“What? Really?” Vette’s smile was bright, like a tiny star. “I was about to ask about that. Guess you beat me to it.” She settled on the floor in front of Marlitharn, knees tucked to her chest and her chin resting on them. Marlitharn gingerly brushed the lekku over Vette’s shoulders so she could see what she was doing and set to removing the collar. 

“Out of curiosity, not that I’m not grateful--I am-- _why_?” Vette asked. 

“I don’t like slavery?” Marlitharn shrugged as she phrased it like a question. “You deserve better?” 

“I’ll take it,” Vette said. 

Marli undid the restraints and the collar popped loose. “I guess you can come or go as you please now, but I wouldn’t mind--that is, I’d _like_ you to stick around.” 

“Yeah I can do that,” Vette said, rubbing her neck where the collar had been. There were ugly singe marks and she wiped the soot and sweat and dirt off on her pants. “Oh, that smells,” she complained. “But, bright side, I think you're not likely slap that collar back on.”

“No,” Marlitharn laughed. “I guess I'm not. There’s got to be a fresher around here somewhere.”

“And hey no one's going to pick on me at school with my best friend the sith around.” She made blasters with her fingers and mock fired them into the wall. Marlitharn chuckled and shook her head. Vette cleared her throat. “Sorry, I’ll be . . . I think I’ll got track down that fresher.” 

Marlitharn nodded. She watched the door open and Vette leave through it and then she curled up on the small bunk provided for her as the door closed. There was something _familiar_ about Vette that she couldn’t quite place. 

_ Program the ship AI to call me Master? You got it.  _

“Hey! _Hey!_ ” 

Marlitharn’s eyes shot open and she stared, wide-eyed at the twi’lek shaking her. _Vette_. Her name was _Vette_. Marlitharn took a deep breath. “What’s happened?” 

“I was going to ask you that.” Vette pulled away and sank to sitting on her knees. “Who’s Kira?” 

Marlitharn blinked. “What?” 

“Kira? You were crying and shouting for someone named Kira.” 

Marlitharn reached up and touched her cheeks. There was a trace of moisture under her fingers. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.” Her migraine threatened to flare up. 

“Seriously?”

She glared up at Vette. 

Vette raised her hand peaceably. “Have it your way, not really my problem.” 

“Vette,” Marlitharn exhaled. “I _really_ don’t know. Maybe someone I knew at the Dromund Kaas Academy?” She rubbed her temple. “It was a dream.” 

“What were you dreaming about?” 

Marlitharn shrugged. “I don’t remember. That’s how dreams work. Do you usually remember yours.” 

“I guess not.” 

“How far out from Dromund Kaas are we?” 

“Day or so.” 

“Get some sleep then.” 

“Will you be able too? I mean, you were crying pretty loudly.” 

Marlitharn quirked her mouth to the side. “When we land,” she tried for a laugh and snagged it by the barest threads, "invest in some earbuds.” 

* * *

It was raining when they landed on Dromund Kaas. Vette, with money borrowed from Marlitharn, purchased a pair of earbuds while Marlitharn located an umbrella for them to share. 

“So,” Vette said, rocking forward on her toes and grinning up at Marlitharn. “Going to give me the grand tour of Kaas City?” 

“I would if I knew where anything was,” Marlitharn answered. Vette’s smile was an airborne virus, spreading to her mouth without the slightest contact. “If we have time maybe we can . . . explore together.”

“Sounds like fun. Better than hanging out in Sith Central all day.” Vette cast worried eyes up at Marlitharn. “No offense.” 

“None taken. I can see why you wouldn’t be a fan.” She gestured to the taxi as it arrived. “We’ll see what we have time for when Darth Baras is done with us.” 

Vette watched out the window with unabashed curiosity as the taxi flew them to the city and the Sanctum within. Marlitharn, for her part, wondered why the planet didn’t feel _familiar_. She’d grown up here, long before attending the Academy, hadn’t she? She should know these streets. The angular, square buildings. The rain. 

She closed her eyes and tried to reflect on her childhood home. 

_[Tall walls and brown robes. Crimson skies and dry, sweet air]_

She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“We should get those headaches looked at,” Vette said. “Unless you think it’s the weather?” 

Marlitharn looked out the window. “You’re right.” She’d meant to before leaving Korriban and there just . . . hadn’t been time. “When we have a moment.” 

Vette slumped back into her seat and shrugged. “It’s your head, Marli, but if you keel over while we’re on Dromund Kaas there’s no telling _how fast_ someone will slap a collar on me.” 

“I’ll protect you.” 

“I know, that’s why the concern is if you drop dead because of Tarisian Brain Flu or whatever you might have that’s causing your headaches.” 

_ Wait here, with me. I feel safer when you’re close _

“Is that even a real thing?” Marlitharn asked, turning to look at Vette. The turn of Vette’s mouth was set to open defiance of the city around her, but her eyes soft and gentle as they smiled at Marlitharn. She had both lekku over her shoulders while she leaned against the seat. 

There was something familiar about the way she sat. The little twitches her lekku made to indicate her discomfort and the way she leaned ever so slightly _towards_ Marlitharn instead of away. Like Marlitharn was somehow exempt from her fears about the world around her. 

Marlitharn shook the thought away. She wasn’t sure why it felt familiar or why it hurt. 

She didn’t have time to reflect on it either. The taxi landed outside the Sith Sanctum and Marlitharn and Vette departed. 

The Sith Sanctum was _impressive_ , certainly. A mixture of black stone and ultrachrome gave the harsh architecture an unworldly sheen in the rain. Marlitharn could feel the Force wrapping around her ankles like weak tentacles, welcoming her to the seat of _true_ power within the Empire. The Council _met_ on Korriban, but decisions were truly made here behind closed doors. 

It made her stomach turn with ~~apprehension~~ anticipation. Marli started walking and her mouth twisted to a hint of a smile when she heard Vette’s stuttered footsteps behind her, jogging a few steps to keep up. 

“Spooky,” Vette said. “Ah, and lit so you get an instant headache when you walk in. Brilliant.” Marlitharn looked over, smile still warm, to see Vette pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Stay close.” 

“Right behind you, don’t worry.” 

Baras’s private sanctum was down a flight of stairs from the entry level and through a looming black and grey corridor. Marlitharn stepped to the side, arm out to make Vette do the same, as a fiery-haired zabrak with republic markings bounded past them. 

“He looked like he was in a hurry,” Vette said. 

Marlitharn nodded her agreement. She’d have thought he was just a slave, but there had been lightsabers clipped to his belt and he didn’t stop to bow. Another apprentice then. 

She wondered how many Baras had and if any of them would prove themselves to be problematic for her. Very likely. Perhaps the trials didn’t end with Korriban, no matter what was said. 

She and Vette entered Baras’s rooms and found him pacing, an inquisitorial holding bed playing centerpiece in the room. Vette took a half-step behind Marlitharn. Marlitharn took a half-step in front of Vette. 

“Ah, apprentice,” Baras’s tone was all smiles. “I see you elected to keep the Twi’lek.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Marlitharn answered. It was more accurate to say that Vette had elected to stay, but those weren’t semantics one needed to argue with or in front of a Darth. 

“I can sense fear roiling off of her,” Baras said as though this was a positive. 

“I believe the straps have her on edge, my lord.” Marlitharn folded her hands behind her. 

“This setup is not for her.” It might have a been a chuckle lining his words, it might have been a threat. 

“Thank _fuck_ ,” Vette muttered under her breath. 

“I have a number of plans underway at the moment, Apprentice. First and foremost, I require a deft hand to deal with an . . . irritation.” 

She raised one eyebarb. 

“Lord Grathan, a lesser Sith Lord, has seen fit to rebel against the council he believes he is outside the reach of other Sith, _you_ will remind him that he is not.” Baras rolled his shoulders back. “Go. Meet with my apprentice Dri’kill Ba’al. He’s my covert operative in Grathan’s compound. Ba’al claims to have made a key discovery.”

“Does this Ba’al outrank me?” Marlitharn asked carefully. 

“Certainly he will assume he does. It is nothing to me and I expect you to sort it out yourselves.” 

“Yes, my lord.”

“Grathan’s presence is useful to me, so I don’t want him killed, just crippled. Find out what Ba’al has discovered and do _exactly_ as he instructs.” 

She took the nav point he gave her and left the room with Vette a step in front of her. 

“He’s still spooky,” Vette said under her breath once they reached the main level. 

Marlitharn nodded and stopped herself from wondering what _precisely_ her new master was up to. 

* * *

Lord Grathan’s estate was buried deep in the Kaasian jungle. The rains were present, but lighter and beneath the trees it was almost comfortable if the humidity could be ignored. 

“After this can we go to a planet with a beach?” Vette whispered. 

Marlitharn gave her a smile. “I hope so.” 

They snuck up to the wall and Marlitharn threw herself up it and then lifted Vette to her on the top. 

“How did you _do_ that?” 

“Practice.” 

“When did you even learn?” Vette demanded, eyes wide. 

_ Easy does it. Focus on how it feels _ .

“I don’t--” She shook her head. “My old master taught me.” 

“Before Baras?” 

Marlitharn nodded. She couldn’t remember a face or a name and thinking about it hurt like staring into a glaring light. “That’s all I--” 

“--remember, right? That’s not going to get old _at all_.” 

“You’re telling me.” Marlitharn gave her a wry smile and dropped off the wall. At some point the memories would return or she would go looking for them. It was less important than the task at hand. 

Vette landed at her side with a roll in the soft, damp grass. “Ow.” 

“You could have waited for me to catch you.” 

“I like being self-reliant.” 

Marlitharn chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

They slipped through the dark green foliage as quietly as they could. Marlitharn considered knocking out a couple of guards and taking their uniforms, but there was no way to hide that Vette was a twi’lek. She allowed herself a brief moment of irritation and then plowed forward. 

The first fight they got in resulted in Marlitharn “liberating” a pair of blasters for Vette. Vette stared at them like she couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“What, you’re not worried I’ll blast my way to freedom?” 

Marlitharn frowned. “You’re _already_ free, Vette. And this way you can _help_ with something more than moral support.” She cleared her throat. “Which you’re great at. Don’t--don’t get me wrong. But high morale doesn’t kill other people. Well, not directly. I--you know what I mean.” 

Vette laughed quietly to keep from giving away their position. “I didn’t know Sith were allowed to be _cute_.” 

Marlitharn flushed. “Shut up.” 

To her credit, Vette tried. The smile kept coming back, but she had managed to mostly quash it by the time they reached the coordinates Baras had given them and Marli cleared a path up the stairs to the office where Baras’s other apprentice, Dri’kill Ba’al, was supposed to be waiting. 

She had _expected_ the fiery-haired zabrak. 

What she _got_ was a dark skinned human male with a sour expression and his arms crossed over his chest. 

Which once again raised the question of how many apprentices Baras had. 

At that point Marlitharn couldn’t help but feel Baras probably should have kept Vemrin. 

Or half of the fucking Academy.

“You must be the operative Lord Baras sent.” Ba’al sneered. “I thought he’d choose a stealthy assassin, not some senseless savage.” 

“You have a way with people,” Marlitharn replied, responding to hostility with disdain. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to know.” 

Ba’al wrinkled his nose with irritation. “You let things get to you too easily. But fine, I’ll rise above my discontent, for now.” 

“ _The information_ ,” she repeated through gritted teeth. Things _did_ get to her too easily and that was fine because she was _sith_ and she drew power from her fury. So long as she kept from _acting_ on her irritation and used her anger, rather than letting it use her, there was no profit in denying it.

Ba’al rolled his eyes. “Lord Grathan has a son.”

Marlitharn was underwhelmed. She raised one eyebarb to be _certain_ that Ba’al knew what a waste of time that statement was. 

“I was assigned to find Grathan’s weakness,” Ba’al explained further. “He’s kept his son a secret in order to protect him from his enemies. Grathan would be devastated if his only child and heir was dead. _That_ would send a message.” 

“I do not slaughter _children_ ,” Marlitharn growled. 

“We’re not talking about a baby, here. Grathan’s kid is nearly twenty and strong with the Force. He’s been trained in the ways of the sith since birth.” Ba’al sniffed. “ _You’ll_ have your hands full.” 

“At least I won’t be _bored_.” 

“Indeed. Grathan’s away on business. I managed to hack a special spike that will get you inside his private quarters but first you’re going to have to knock out the surveillance stations so you aren’t seen entering.” 

“Are we trying to be stealthy?”

He gave a bored sigh. “The surveillance system also controls the automated defenses. If you don’t disable it, you’ll never make it. Simply locate the monitoring stations and stick your lightsaber through them. Think you can handle that, _brute_.” 

“Oh yes, Ba’al. I am _excellent_ at sticking my lightsaber through things,” she snapped.

“The son’s name is Beelzit. Find him, end him, and return to me when you’re done. Try not to fuck it up.” 

“I kinda like his attitude,” Vette said as she and Marlitharn exited the meeting place. 

Marlitharn gave her a betrayed and reproachful glance. 

Vette laughed. “I like you _more_ ya weirdo.” 

Marlitharn dropped her wounded mask and grinnned. “Good, because I’d be devastated if you abandoned me for _that_ asshole. Or, well, any asshole really.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. 

_ What? You thought I’d abandon you just ‘cause they made me a knight? _

* * *

“There’s one,” Vette said excitedly, touching Marlitharn’s elbow and pointing with one of her new blasters. 

“I’m glad one of us recognizes sith security terminals on sight,” Marlitharn mused, slicing the head off a droid and then slamming both of her lightsabers through the console. “I would have just started stabbing terminals until I found the right one. You’re invaluable.” 

Vette beamed at the praise. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” 

“I wasn’t--I _meant_ that.” 

Vette’s laugh was warm and brilliant, a distraction from their work. “You are _honestly_ the most awkward person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of people.” 

Marlitharn rolled her eyes. “Well, then you’re fond of an awkward person.” 

“Looks that way.” 

Marlitharn felt herself turn a little bit purple.

Two more security terminals and then they turned down the corridor towards the private chambers. Marlitharn felt tendrils of strength through the Force, three, not two , and one much stronger than either of the others. 

Ba’al had lied about Grathan being away. 

What _else_ had he lied about?

_Kill Him For His Impudence_

If she got the chance, certainly. Marlitharn stuck the spike in the security door panel and counted to thirty under her breath before passing beneath the arch. 

“Why so tense?” Vette asked. 

“I almost didn’t expect it to work. It would make sense for Ba’al to view me as his rival.” Her frown deepened. “He could be using me for the difficult part and plan to walk over my corpse to gain the glory in Baras's eyes.” 

“Are all sith this paranoid?”

“Probably,” Marlitharn ignited her lightsabers. “Or they're dead.”

Beelzit Grathan was not alone when they found him. He was a tall human male with youthful features and well-combed Sandy blonde hair. With him was an older-sounding woman, her back to the door. 

“Mother,” Beelzit said, his attention grabbed by the sound of footsteps, “strangers.”

“You don't know the half of it, Kid.” Vette had her blasters out. 

The woman--Lady Grathan-- turned and her eyes slipped off of Vette and onto Marlitharn. She raised her chin and said, in a low, haughty voice, “I am Cellvanta Grathan! How _dare_ you enter my son's room uninvited! Who are you?”

“Step aside,” Marlitharn said instead of answering. There was no reason to give this woman her name or affiliation. “I’m here for your son.”

Cellvanta’s pinched mouth pulled into a snarl. “You’ll have to kill me first.” She growled. She grabbed the lightsaber on her belt and ignited there blood red crystal. “And though my _son_ is still an acolyte, _I_ am fully sith.” 

Marlitharn shifted her weight, lowering her center of gravity in preparation. 

“Beelzit! Take Cover!”

Beelzit threw a hand out and summoned a warblade from across the room. “No Mother! I stand at your side!”

“Touching,” Marlitharn said. She brought both blades up, blocking Cellvanta's assault at Vette and kicked her hard in the chest, knocking her into her son and over the desk. The desk came back with a fury as Lady Granthan blasted it forwards. Marlitharn and Vette rolled out of the way. 

Beelzit, thinking to take advantage of the chaos, rushed Marlitharn. She ducked low and to the side, tripping him and impaling him as he fell. 

Lady Granthan screamed as though she herself had been stabbed, her distress enough that Vette’s blaster fire kept her off balance as Marlitharn darted over to finish the work of relieving her pain and the head from her shoulders. 

She breathed in the tendrils of smoke from the cauterized flesh and felt the smallest smile tug over her mouth. 

_Well Done_

_ Marli no _

“We should return to Ba’al before we’re discovered,” Marlitharn said. Vette was staring at her, both purple eyes wide. “What? What is it?” 

“You’re smiling.” 

Marlitharn blinked. She was, Vette looked at her like this was _wrong_ somehow. “Adrenaline,” Marlitharn lied. “Causes some mild euphoria.” 

It sounded true. And it was true enough that Vette seemed to accept it. “So that was something else. I didn’t know combat could be _graceful_.” 

“We’re taught to fight with grace and restraint.” 

Vette stared at her. “No you’re not. I was _on_ Korriban. It’s all strength, fury and cunning.” 

“You’re right of course I--” The white light flashed behind her eyes and Marlitharn covered them to try and ward off the pain. “ _Fuck_.” 

“Marli?” 

“Fine. I’m fine. Let’s. Let’s just get out of here.” 

* * *

Ba’al was waiting for them. Marlitharn tried not to take offense at the _surprise_ in his eyes that she had succeeded. She tried and she failed. Her blood boiled. 

“I’m surprised you survived,” Ba’al said, making her temper rise another few degrees. “So, is it done? Is Grathan’s son dead?” 

“Yes, you condescending windbag,” Marlitharn sighed. “The boy is dead.” 

“It’s pretty easy to push your buttons, brute.”

“Or maybe you’re simply good at something, must be a new experience.” She rolled her eyes. “And you’re not important enough for me to _leash_ my temper.” 

Ba’al snarled, clearly not used to _taking_ insults as well as giving them. Which made sense if he’d been undercover and away from his peers for any length of time. “Doesn’t say much for Grathan’s security forces if a clumsy clod like you was about to bang into his private chamber and off his son.”

“Yes, yes, you have a big mouth.” Marlitharn crossed her arms over her chest. “But ff you’re not prepared to _do something_ I think I’ll report back to our master.” She shifted one foot back, as though she was ready to leave but didn’t put any weight on it, waiting for his decision and _hoping_ he decided to do something stupid. 

“ _Doing_ something is exactly what I had in mind.” 

Marlitharn considered thanking the Emperor _aloud_ as Ba’al drew his lightsaber. 

_You’re Welcome_

“Killing the murderer of Grathan’s son will solidify my cover here. Baras can replace you easily.” 

Marlitharn turned her face to Vette but kept one eye on Ba’al. “See. I told you.” 

“Yep, you did.” Vette dropped her hands to her hips and set them on her blasters. 

Ba’al grinned. “You don’t know the half of it.” He produced a silver, cylindrical device from a pocket with his other hand. A signal of some kind. “Though I’m more than capable of face you alone, a smart man--” 

Vette fired and to block Ba’al was forced to drop his beacon. Marlitharn brought her back foot around and caught him in the neck, twisting and slamming him into the ground. Her other foot slammed down hard on his wrist, forcing him to drop his saber. She slammed her boot down again and drank in his pained scream and the crunch of bone beneath her. The smile she gave him before summoning his saber into her palm was vicious. “I think a smart man would talk _somewhat less.”_ She broke his neck with a thought. 

_I Am So Proud, Puppet_

Marlitharn shook her head like she was trying to dislodge water from her ears. “You alright, Vette?” 

Vette nodded, fear in her purple eyes. Marlitharn _wanted_ to dissuade it, but what could have been said. She was _sith_ , she was terrifying and she was vicious and despite the knowledge that she would never hurt _Vette_ , Vette _should_ be afraid. 

“Fine, Marli. You?” 

“Fine. Glad that’s--” she indicated Ba’al “--dealt with. Let’s get back.” 

* * *

Grunts and screams greeted them as they headed down the stairs to Baras’s sanctum. Marlitharn put a hand on Vette’s arm. “Hey. Wait here.” 

Vette looked down the passage and then took a deep breath through her nose. “Yeah.” She nodded. “I think I’ll do that.” 

Leaving Vette behind, Marlitharn continued downstairs, noting the flickering light that painted lightning on the walls. She entered the room and watched a man in restraints arch backwards as a lightning storm danced in his teeth.

“YOU WILL BREAK!” Baras howled. 

“G-g-g fuck-k-k yourself,” the bound man gargled. 

Marlitharn’s hand started moving for her lightsaber, all she could see was his suffering.

Someone has to do something

“Ah! Apprentice,” Baras addressed her before he turned around. He sounded tired, a little strained. “Don’t mind the _worm_ behind me.” 

She forced her hand away from her saber, unsure why it had moved in the first plast. “I won’t.” Curiosity force-lightninged the cat in a lot of cases. 

“Word had spread that Lord Grathan is incensed at the slaying of his secret son. I take it that was your handiwork,” the exhaustion bled from Baras’s tone as his mask of control slipped back into place. 

“Yes.” 

“My confidence in you is growing,” Baras praised. “I haven’t heard from Dri’kill Ba’al, my agent in Grathan’s camp. He’s missed a scheduled communication.” 

Marlitharn hoped this wasn’t going to be a problem. 

“Let me guess--he gave you _trouble_ , did he?” 

“Yes, my lord. I had to kill him.” 

“No matter,” Baras gave a profoundly unconcerned shrug. “He fulfilled his primary purpose.” He chuckled. “Every Sith must seek to orchestra his own promotion.” Baras folded his hands behind his back. “Now, in the hangar is a starship waiting for you. To act as one of my chief agents, I need you mobile. Go, take this gift and head for the planet Balmorra. I will brief you when you arrive.” 

Marlitharn bowed her head. “Thank you, my master.” 

Baras turned his attention back to his prisoner and the screams followed Marlitharn down the hallway and back to where Vette was leaning on a wall, chewing her nails. 

“Hey! What--what _was_ that?” 

“Darth Baras’s hobby, I would guess,” Marlitharn shrugged. “But we’re granting a wish of yours.” 

Vette looked intrigued by that and Marlitharn gave her a sneaky grin and refused to answer. They settled side by side in the taxi and Vette brightened the nearer they got to the space port. 

“Are we _finally leaving_?” 

“You did say this was where ‘Freedom comes to die’, didn’t you?” 

“Well yeah but I--”

“--And here’s the ship that will take us.” Marlitharn interrupted as the elevator doors opened. She was pleased the ship was impressive, otherwise she would have looked like a complete idiot in front of her friend. 

Sometimes, however, gambles pay off. 

“Would you _look_ at _that_ ,” Vette was almost giddy. “Now we’re flying in style.” 

“I can fly her, can you keep her in the air?” 

“You bet I can.” 

“Good, we’re leaving immediately.” 


	5. Burgeoning Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn meets a boy on Balmorra and is hunted by a Jedi Master

> Marli could smell caf through the hazy of sleep. She rolled to her side and sleepily raised her wrist comm to her mouth. “Someone bring me some?”  
> 
> 
> The intercom was silent. There was a knock on the door that sounded like someone kicking it. Kira, probably, ever impatient. 
> 
> “Yeah, if you open the door.”
> 
> It didn’t sound right. The voice was wrong. The door slid open and Marli blinked at the silhouette. Twi’lek. There wasn’t a twi’lek on the _Defender_ , was there? 

The Dream slipped away. “Thank you, Vette.” Marlitharn yawned and sat up, clutching the blankets to her bare chest. With one hand she accepted the cup of caf. 

“How'd you know I take it black?” Marlitharn asked after she swallowed. 

“Lucky guess,” Vette replied.

“You're magic.”

“Shame I'm not into girls, right?” her laugh was musical, just the hint of a snort at the end.

Marlitharn shook her head immediately. “I mean... you're great and, and beautiful but...yeah. You remind me too much of someone else.” Marlitharn frowned into her cup. “You're more energetic and funny but she was… gentle, like you. Kind.” And thinking about her hurt Marlitharn’s chest more than her head. 

“Another sith or--” Vette let the sentence dangle, probably unable to believe Marlitharn had met a _gentle_ sith apprentice. 

“No. No. She wasn't force sensitive.” 

“Slave?” Vette's expression darkened. 

Marlitharn shook her head again, more insistently. “Nothing like that. I just...I don't remember the details. It must have been a lifetime ago.”

“Memory loss and headaches, that can't be good.” 

“Perhaps things will slow down on Balmorra long enough for me to get checked out.” 

“Make time.” Vette urged. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

Marlitharn offered up a narrow smile, reminding Vette silently not to give her orders and then relenting. She sighed. “As soon as we land.” 

“Thanks. You die, I get slammed with stealing this ship. I _really_ don’t want to go back to prison.” Vette left the room with a grin, returning to whatever task she’d set for herself and Marlitharn huddled on her bed with her cup of caf. 

_Nothing Is Wrong_

The source of her headaches, whatever it was, would have to wait until after Baras’s task. She sipped her drink. Vette would likely be annoyed about it, but Vette could be distracted, lied to if necessary. The thought left a bad taste in her mouth that the caf couldn’t quite cover. She didn’t like lying in general and she didn’t like the idea of lying to _Vette_ specifically. 

She inhaled and closed her eyes. 

* * *

“We’re in orbit around Balmorra, Master,” Marlitharn said as Baras flickered into view. 

“Excellent, apprentice.” Baras said. “You will report to Darth Lachris, an associate of mine and the Balmorran Governor. She has work for you.” 

“What _kind_ of work?” Marlitharn asked, the irritation at being _lent out_ grazing the edges of her sharp teeth. 

“She will inform you,” Baras’s tone shortened considerably. “Before meeting with Lachris, however, you will seek my agent, Lieutenant Malavai Quinn, in Sobrik. He will act as your liaison to me.” 

“I understand.” 

At least this one wasn’t an apprentice. 

“One of my apprentices, Ashlan, is also on the planet’s surface. I do not expect you two to interact, but if you do, Marlitharn, see that he lives.” 

“I--” she was offended that he would have _immediately_ jumped to the idea that she would kill his other apprentice. Though she had killed the last one. At least he was acting like he thought she would win. Probably he’d given Ashlan the exact same speech. “I understand, master,” she finished the sentence. “I’ll try not to instigate anything.”

The holo went dead and Marlitharn scowled at it. Masters were supposed to teach and guide, weren’t they? Baras mostly just sent her on errands. 

_The Force wants me to teach you_

Marlitharn huffed a sigh and folded her arms across her chest. “We should probably do inventory before we land. I’ll handle it while you fly?” 

Vette nodded. “And then it’s land, med-droid and then this Lieutenant.” 

Marlitharn slumped in defeat. “Land, Lieutenant, Lachris, Droid.” 

“ _You said_ \--”

“I did, I _will,_ I just--” 

_How Dare She Demand You Justify Yourself_

“I will attend to it when _I_ am ready, Vette.” The words were harsher than Marlitharn had intended and it showed on Vette’s face. The immediate betrayal and hurt covered in the blink of an eye by detached nonchalance. 

“Whatever,” she shrugged. 

Marlitharn bit her tongue to keep from apologizing. She did not _have_ to apologize. She watched the tense twitch of Vette’s lekku as the other woman left the social area around the holoterminal to return to the cockpit. Once she was alone, Marlitharn’s expression crumbled. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose. 

Her temper was a wire that she walked along. Too far in either direction--embracing or suppressing--and disaster waited. She had to build it and unleash it when the time was _right_. 

That was what The Wrath had said, anyway. 

As near as she could remember. 

She retreated to the cargo hold and took stock of what they had and how many credits they had to make up any loss. More caf wouldn’t go astray. Better blasters for Vette. New clothes for Vette. Repair kits. New clothes for herself. 

She let the list and the boxes drown out her discontent. 

* * *

Balmorra was depressing. Sobrik, the Imperial capital, was little more than a command post, lacking any sense of art or civil culture. Marlitharn hadn’t been on Dromund Kaas long enough to truly experience Kaas City, but at least there had been clear signs that someone _other_ than soldiers made the city their home. 

Not so with Sobrik. 

Sobrik was depressing and she suspected their stay would only get more so. 

Vette went to handle resupply while Marlitharn headed for Lieutenant Quinn’s office. In the hallway she was passed by the same fiery haired Zabrak from Baras’s sanctum. _Ashlan_ , she thought, narrowing her eyes at the back of his head and the--frankly stupid--ponytail that adorned it. 

Hopefully they’d have no reason to interact. The _last_ thing she needed was a repeat of the situation with Ba’al. Particularly if he didn’t get the same little speech from Darth Baras. There was no use in paranoid speculation. 

The Lieutenant--Quinn--was not what she had expected. _Lieutenant_ carried with it connotations of youth and inexperience. The man standing at the console, and indeed the only man in the room, was in his mid-to-late thirties and held his shoulders like they were sore. 

“Lieutenant?”

He straightened, holding his shoulders perfectly square, and turned to face her, revealing comely features and eyes blue enough to spark at her from across the room. 

“My Lord,” he gave her a crisp bow. “Darth Baras has briefed me on your situation. I’m to act as a liaison between the two of you and assist you in any matters you require whilst on Balmorra.”

“ _Any_ matters?” It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Cliched and dangling in the air like a fish hook. She cleared her throat and waved a hand to distract him from the bait. “Excellent, Lieutenant. I don’t suppose you know where to find Darth Lachris or what she expects of me, do you?” 

Lieutenant Quinn had _not_ missed what she’d said, and it showed, but he made a point of not acknowledging it that she appreciated. “Darth Lachris awaits you in her home,” he sent the coordinates. “I am not privy to her intentions, though I do trust that they serve the Empire.” 

“Good,” was the most Marlitharn could think of. “I’ll need lodgings for myself and my companion.” 

“Yes, it’s been handled, there’s a room waiting for you above the Cantina.” 

“Thank you.” 

“A pleasure, my lord.” 

She left and Vette met her in the courtyard. 

“So?” 

“We’ve got a room above the Cantina and I’m on my way to meet with Darth Lachris now,” Marlitharn said, hoping their earlier spat was finally forgotten. “The Lieutenant’s cute.” 

“Preying on small, vulnerable lieutenants Marlii?” 

“Thinking about it, though he’s older than me.” Marlitharn shrugged. “And he didn’t really give off sense of being particularly small or vulnerable.” 

There was a safety in lusting after the lieutenant that didn’t exist with her small flare up of feelings for Vette. Perhaps because he didn’t remind her of anyone. Perhaps because it was purely physical (they’d exchanged nothing more than a handful of sentences and who knew if they’d have cause to exchange more). 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Sith are driven by passion, Vette, and it’s been a long time since I’ve indulged.” Marlitharn grinned. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually had someone. It just made the prospect more inviting. “So if he’s interested, I very well may.” 

“Thank the Stars I bought earplugs.” 

The conversation wound to a halt as they reached Darth Lachris’s home. It was a military bunker, like most of Sobrik’s newer buildings, but at least it looked _lived in_. There was art on the walls, and a handful of people milling about--rather than marching or guarding. 

Darth Lachris was a human woman with darkside corruption running through the veins in her pale face. Her smile was cheerful, however, and her eyes shrewd. “Marlitharn,” she said, greeting Marlitharn like they were old friends. “Darth Baras said he was sending you.” 

Marlitharn bowed her head in greeting, standing just in front of Vette like a shield. “I’m told you have work for me, My Lord?” 

Lachris eyed Vette momentarily and then nodded. “Yes. There are sects upon Balmorra that are showing a certain discontentment with my leadership. I’m working on silencing them, but I require a deft hand to bring me the crux of the issue.” 

“I don’t follow.” 

“The Former President, Retheus Galthe. With him in my custody his little resistance will lose heart and Balmorra will fall under Imperial Control.” Lachris’s smile failed to reached her eyes, like the smile of a firaxan shark. “A much neater approach than senselessly walloping the Resistance when they stick their heads out of their holes.” 

“I agree.” Marlitharn nodded. There was a twinge in her stomach at the thought of kidnapping an established political figure. “Where will I find him.” 

Anticipation. It had to be anticipation. 

“My apprentice, Lerek, is working on that presently. I want you ready when the time comes.” 

“Yes, my lord.” 

Marlitharn bowed, assumed dismissal, and turned to leave. 

“Marlitharn,” Darth Lachris interrupted the attempt. “Have you ever been to Balmorra before?” 

Marlitharn shook her head. “I don’t believe so.” 

“You look _very much_ like a compatriot of mine, murdered by the Jedi about fifteen annuls ago.” Lachris tilted her head. “He had a daughter who’d be about your age.” 

Marlitharn blinked. “Did he have a name?”

“Lord Jirdash.” 

Marlitharn shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell, my lord.” 

“Ah well, can’t blame me for wondering.” 

* * *

Vette was dancing. Not _well_ , mind, it was arrhythmic wiggling to the music, but she looked like she was having fun and that was what mattered. Marlitharn sipped her drink from the corner booth she’d claimed. 

Lieutenant Quinn had a stiff gait that made him stand out in the cantina. He made the civilian clothes look like a uniform when he sat down at the bar, possibly the least inconspicuous person in existence. 

_Through Passion I Gain Strength_

Marlitharn finished her drink and took the seat at the lieutenant’s side. “Lieutenant,” she said warmly. “Buy you a drink?” 

Lieutenant Quinn blinked at her as though processing the offer and tone. “I--I have one, my lord.” His eyes dropped away from her. 

She shrugged in acceptance. “You’re not an easy man to flirt with.” 

“I pride myself on professionalism, my lord.” 

“We’re at the bar,” she pointed out. “But fair enough. Shall I leave you to it?” 

“Actually, my lord, I was looking for you,” he met her gaze levelly and Marlitharn’s heart gave a tiny flutter. The neon caught and held in his eyes. “Might we retire to your table?” 

“Y-yes,” she cleared her throat. Outplayed entirely but she was _okay_ with that. She was so okay with that. 

She lead the way to the table, trying not to walk too fast. 

He settled a respectful distance away from her. “My lord, I believe you’re being hunted.” 

The power went out of her engine. Marlitharn’s shoulders slumped. “Really?” 

“Yes, my lord. While monitoring communications for Darth Baras I came across your name on a republic frequency.” 

Marlitharn narrowed her eyes, the threat an adequate distraction from her disappointment. “What was said?” 

“Whomever it was appeared to be looking for you. I’ve informed Darth Baras but thought you should know as well.” 

She was the _tiniest_ bit annoyed that he told Baras first. But it made sense, Baras was as much _his_ master as hers. Perhaps moreso. As a sith, Marlitharn would hopefully one day be free of the leash. 

Lieutenant Quinn would belong to Baras for the rest of his life. As long as he was _useful_. 

“I’ll keep an eye on it, my lord.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” 

He inclined his head and stood, drink in hand. “Yes, my lord.” 

She watched him go with a touch of sorrow. 

At least he’d chosen fairly tight pants. 

* * *

“The Republic’s hunting you?” Vette asked incredulously, having to shout over the sound from the speeder. 

“That’s what it looks like,” Marlitharn shouted back. 

The first task was the destruction of the Republic Comm towers, and that meant a trip outside of Sobrik’s fortifications. If Sobrik was depressing, the rest of Balmorra was moreso. What had once been beautiful green fields full of tall flowers (yellow and peach, towering over her head) were pockmarked from mortar shells and laced with razor wire. 

Depressing was not Marlitharn’s main concern. The insects, the _Colicoids_ , freaked her out worse than she felt they should have. Looking at them made her eyes sting and her stomach tried to revolt, forcing her heart to beat faster because she _had_ to run. 

But running wouldn’t help. They were fast they were so fast. 

They were not faster than the speeder. 

They were no worse than the K’lorslugs on Korriban. 

Why did they _seem_ worse?

They weren’t faster than the speeder. 

Vette, with one arm around Marlitharn’s waist, took pot shots as they flew through the colicoid grounds, her cheek nestled between Marlitharn’s shoulder blades, lekku flapping behind them. 

“Any idea _why_ the Republic’s after you?” Vette stretched as she hopped off the speeder, twisting her back until it popped. 

Marlitharn shook her head. “No. I can’t think why they’d even know who I am. I’m only an Apprentice.” She looked at the tower they were about to break into. “If it relates to _this_ then they knew about it before we did.” 

“That sounds _bad_.” 

“Yeah,” Marlitharn huffed. “Yeah it does.” She drew her lightsabers. “Remind me when we’re done to tell Lachris to update her security.” 

“So long as we’re not dead, sure.” 

They blasted and stabbed their way through the comm tower. The whole _point_ was to intimidate the resistance and so the more noise Marlitharn made, the better. Tissue and metal alike burned away beneath her blades and she let the smell fill her nose and calm her chest and she tried to shake the feeling that Lachris was _wrong_. 

This wasn’t going to demoralize anyone. 

The resistance would just get more pissed off. 

_ They’re stubborn like that, Gorgeous. _

But that wasn’t Marlitharn’s concern. Her concern was blowing up the comm tower. 

She and Vette reached the room with the relay and Marlitharn stood in the doorway while Vette wired the explosives. 

“Hey,” Vette said. “Did that Quinn guy say what frequency?” 

“No, why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We have _immediate_ access into their comms. We could find out who’s chasing you.” 

Marlitharn turned her head and grinned. “You’re _brilliant._ How long do you need?” 

“Give me ten minutes and if I can’t find anything we’ll work out a new plan.” Vette grinned back. 

Ten minutes came and went and Vette finished wiring the explosives into the console. They fled together and were on the speeder as Vette depressed the detonator with her thumb and then dropped it to the ground so she could wrap both arms around Marlitharn’s waist. 

Marlitharn smiled at the contact. “So? Anything?” She shouted over the roaring winds. 

“Till’in!” 

“What?!” 

“Master Till’in!” 

Marlitharn shook her head. “I don’t know who that is.” 

* * *

“I didn’t hear anything specific, but apparently a Jedi Master landed on Balmorra just after we did,” Vette said, flopping onto her back on Marlitharn’s bed back in their room above the Cantina. “Master Till’in.” 

_[the Kel Dor master gives her a kindly nod and a pat on the head]_

Marlitharn shook her head, leaning against the headboard with a pillow crushed to her chest. Vette’s over familiarity was something of a conundrum, but one she enjoyed. She pressed her chin to the pillow. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Did you manage to hear what he’s after?”

“You’re sure it’s a he?” Vette asked. “Could be a woman. Till’in sounds kind of feminine.” 

“You’re right.” Marlitharn exhaled. It _could be_ a woman, but it _wasn’t_. She knew it wasn’t, though the source of the knowledge was elusive. 

The Force, probably. _How_ she knew didn’t matter, only that she did. The only question that needed considering in the immediate was what he wanted. “Anyway, are you sure he’s after me?” 

“ _I_ didn’t hear anything about that, but maybe Quinn’s heard more.” 

“Good idea,” Marlitharn tugged a tired hand over her face. “I’ll go talk to him tomorrow. First I need to check in with Lachris and see what step two is.” 

“And the medical droid.” 

“You’re incorrigible.” Marlitharn whined, having successfully forgotten that she’d promised to check in with the medical droid. She _considered_ pointing out again that Vette didn’t get to tell her what to do, but the memory of Vette’s crushed expression lingered. 

If properly weaponized, Vette’s wounded expression could probably decimate the Republic. “You’re not _wrong_ but you’re relentless.” 

“It’s not altruistic. How have the headaches been?” 

“Better since we left Dromund Kaas,” Marlitharn replied, wondering if that proved it had only been the weather. 

* * *

She let the droid prod her with instruments, trying not to glower the entire time. After a half hour with no sign that anything was wrong she got off the table, paid, and lead Vette back onto the Sobrik streets. 

“Weird,” Vette said. 

Marlitharn shrugged. “Might have just been the weather.” 

“They were bothering you on the way _there_ from Korriban,” Vette pointed out. She sighed, lekku twitching unhappily. “Maybe it was just the stress.” 

“Probably.” Marlitharn turned up a street towards Lieutenant Quinn's office. “I suppose we’ll know if it starts up again.” 

Vette kept easy pace, eyeing the building with her usual suspicion. “I think I’ll wait outside. Something about that guy bothers me.” 

“What?” 

“Military guys bother me.” Vette shrugged. “And my history with Imperial Officers hasn’t been great.” 

“Fair enough, why don’t you go get lunch for us and meet me back here?” 

“Sure. Anything you want in particular?”

“Anything but Colicoid,” Marlitharn answered. “Those things freak me the hell out.” 

“No bugs, got it.” 

Marlitharn made a face, scrunching her stern sith features up comically while she stuck her tongue out to indicate her distaste. Vette laughed. 

They parted ways, Marlitharn heading for Lieutenant Quinn and Vette off to scrounge for food. 

Quinn was at a console when she let herself in. “Lieutenant.” 

He didn’t startle, but turned on the ball of his foot and landed at attention. It was impressive, she wondered if he practiced. “My Lord.” 

“Expecting me?” she asked, the curve of a smile tugging for purchase on her mouth. 

“Not as such, my lord. I have been following Darth Lachris’s reports on your progress for Darth Baras. Is there something I can do for you?” 

_There are like, thirty things you could do for me_. Marlitharn thought. What she _said_ was, “Yes, actually. I need everything you can find on why Jedi Master Till’in has landed on Balmorra and if it has anything to do with what you told me.” 

“Master Till’in, my lord?” 

“Vette heard the name while slicing their comms. That’s why we took so long with the explosives.” 

Quinn was cute when he was surprised. His jaw dropped just a hair, eyes widening. He corrected quickly. “My lord, I had calculated it would take you ten minutes _longer_ to set those charges.” 

“Oh.” 

“I will strive to be more accurate in the future.” 

“Hoping you’ll have the opportunity to work with me again, Lieutenant?” Marlitharn teased. 

“You’ve crushed odds I calculated as almost impossible, My lord, and now you move to help Darth Lachris take the Resistance by the throat. It’s all very exciting.” 

“So I _excite_ you?” Marlitharn chuckled. 

“Well--I---” Quinn’s veneer of professionalism slips and his cheeks go pink. He’d seemed so . . . controlled . . . in the cantina. 

Or had the lights just hidden his flush. 

“You’re cute when you blush,” she told him. 

“I wasn’t expecting the question, my lord.” He cleared his throat. “If we might return to the task at hand.” His tongue touched his lips and he cleared his throat but never looked away. “I have heard the name Till’in before. I’ll see what I can learn while you’re assisting Darth Lachris with the next step.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant, and I reserve the right to pick up where we left off later.” 

“That . . . That _is_ your prerogative, my lord.” 

She wanted to gobble him up. 

_Passion destroys people_

She left the room, well aware that her cheeks were more purple than was professional and _more_ aware that if anyone besides Vette commented on it she could kill them. 

Vette’s laughter carried. 

Marlitharn turned the corner a bit faster and found Vette leaning against the wall holding a two bits of fried something on sticks and laughing. Her conversational partner was the bigger concern. 

_Ashlan_. 

He was grinning, shoulders dropped comfortably and his tan skin tinged red from his own fit of giggles. “I’m _dead serious_ ,” he swore, “I found him ass up in a ditch” 

“I thought sith were supposed to be dignified.” 

“No one told _him_ I guess,” Ashlan beamed. He turned his head and tossed his chin in greeting, locking eyes with Marlitharn. “You must be Marli.” 

“Marlitharn,” she said tensely. “Yes.” 

Ashlan had already been grinning but it spread over his features until he was smiling with his whole self. “He’s cute, right?” He gestured past her, ostensibly at Quinn. “Working that stiff officer look until you compliment him and he melts?” 

She nodded. “Yes, actually.” 

Ashlan pushed off the wall with his shoulders. “I’d better check in. Nice meeting you,” he gave Vette a bow. “Marlitharn.” 

“Ashlan.” 

“He’s nice,” Vette volunteered as Ashlan disappeared. “Not what I expected.” 

“You mentioned me?” 

Vette nodded and handed over the second stick. It smelled like meat beneath the grease. “He asked and it seemed safest.” 

_She would betray you in an instant to save her own skin_

“Ah.” Marlitharn took a bite of the fried meat treat. “Well, at least he seemed friendly.” 

* * *

Lachris was waiting for them at the bunker. She gestured to the pale human male beside her. His black hair was shaved down and he had a large scar on his face. “My apprentice, Lerek Serrus.” 

Serrus bowed his head in greeting and Marlitharn returned the gesture.

“I’ll be transporting the former president after we capture him,” Serrus explained. His accent was Balmorran, not Imperial, and that was unusual. 

She felt treasonous and ill for wondering why a native Balmorran would side with the Empire. The Empire was her _home_. 

The question and the feeling remained. 

She listened, nodding along, as the plan was outlined. She and Vette would cause a distraction and that would buy Serrus and his small collection of troopers time to secure Galthe and transport him back to Sobrik. 

“I want Lieutenant Malavai Quinn monitoring communications,” Marlitharn folded her arms over her chest. “I think there’s a leak in security and he may be able to trace it to its source.”

“A leak?” Lachris’s expression narrowed. “What makes you think there’s a leak?” 

“A Jedi Master by the name of Till’in landed shortly after I did.” Marlitharn uncrossed her arms. “My name has been picked up on Republic communications. _This_ is the only thing I’ve been involved in that could garner Republic interest.” 

“Interesting,” Lachris stroked her chin. “And it speeds up our time table if true. What do we know about this Jedi?”

“Nothing,” Marlitharn said. He liked his tea steeped more than it should have been because he liked the smell more than anything else. “Just his name.” 

“I’ll reassign the Lieutenant immediately. In the meantime, head to these coordinates and make as much noise as you can.” 

“Yes, My lord.” 

Marlitharn caught Vette’s arm as they headed for the speeder once Darth Lachris dismissed them. “I want you to stay here.” 

“What? Why?” 

“The Lieutenant seems like the sort to think in straight lines, I want you here in case someone needs to think around a corner.” She tried to smile in such a way that Vette wouldn’t think she was being left behind because Marlitharn wanted to protect her. 

Which was, in all honesty, part of it. 

But only part of it. 

“What if you need backup?” Vette asked, crossing her arms and sticking one hip out in annoyed defiance. “You could get hurt.” 

“I’m tougher than I look, and I look fairly tough.” 

Vette’s scowl deepened but she relented and dropped her arms to her sides. “Fine. Just don’t _die_.” 

“I won’t die,” Marlitharn promised. “I’ll be in touch over holo if you find anything.” 

“We’re just trying to avoid this Jedi, right?” 

Marlitharn considered. “If possible. But depending on _why_ he’s looking for me . . . that might not be an option, Vette.” 

“Can you take a Jedi Master?” 

Marlitharn shook her head. “No, but with Lachris’s help I--I might. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 


	6. Do You Know Your Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn squares off with a Jedi Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, NaNo happened. And sorry for how short this chapter is, Balmorra was only SUPPOSED to be one chapter but the last one got away from me.

The Force guided her. Something akin to memory helped Marlitharn navigate Balmorra’s warzone while avoiding large pockets of resistance fighters. She checked the time, she had fifteen minutes before Serrus was scheduled to make his move. 

She had fifteen minutes, two lightsabers and a thermal detonator. She reached the coordinates Darth Lachris had given her and pulled her holo from her pocket. “I’m in position,” she told the flickering vision of Lerek Serrus that materialized in her palm. “Where are you?” 

“Nearing the Galthe’s bunker,” Serrus reported. “Should be on schedule.” 

“Force be with--ever serve you,” Marlitharn’s tongue twisted around both phrases. She clicked the comm off and shook her head to dislodge the unease before calling Vette. 

Lieutenant Quinn answered instead, looking harried. 

“My lord,” he bowed his head. “She literally threw her comm at me.” 

“Vette’s like that. Has there been any word?” 

He looked away, presumably at where Vette was working. “Nothing yes, my lord. We will continue to monitor their communications.” 

“And about the Jedi.” 

“Master Till’in was spotted heading towards Sobrik, I am sending men to intercept.” 

“Hold him until I get there.” She bit her lower lip and frowned. “And be careful. If there is a leak he likely knows you’re assisting me, he may head to _you_ in hopes of laying a trap.”

“I appreciate the concern, my lord. We’ll be prepared.”

She clicked the comm off and tucked it into her pocket. 

With the force to shield her, Marlitharn made her way into the belly of the resistance camp. When she was ready, she let go of the camouflage and grinned, tall and red and vicious. “Afternoon. 

The table in front of her sprang up at her whim to take most of the fire. 

_“Sith!”_ the cry went up as someone radioed. “ _We’ve got a Sith in Cresh!”_

She let them signal, the signal was in some ways the point. Marlitharn danced through the blaster fire, deflecting bolts back to their senders like unwanted advances with her lightsabers. She drank in the screams and the chaos and the sweet smell of charring flesh that made her feel warm and welcome. 

Her comm buzzed. 

She ignored it. 

Her comm buzzed a second time. 

She stepped over the body of a resistance leader and force screamed a hole in a turret wide enough to shove her lightsaber into it’s inner workings. 

Her comm buzzed a third time and she bolted from the resistance camp, leaving death and carnage behind her. 

She tapped her earpiece and threw one leg over her speeder. “Yes?” 

“It’s done,” Serrus said in her ear, breathing a little bit hard. Someone put up more of a fight than he had expected. “Rendezvous at Sobrik.” 

“Understood.” She changed channels. “Vette?” 

“Hey.”

“What have we learned?” 

“Till’in decimated the group Quinn sent after him,” Vette said. “He’s headed to the spaceport, Quinn went after him.” 

“Probably trying to get aboard the _Fury_. _Shit_.” She swore and swerved out of the path of a rock. “Tell Quinn I’m on my way.” 

“What should I do.” 

“Stay safe but see if you can sneak past Till’in and keep him off our ship.” 

“Our,” Vette repeated softly. She cleared her throat and more loudly piped in an enthusiastic, “you got it!”

Marlitharn smiled to herself in response. “See you soon.” 

“You better.” 

* * *

She called Serrus, voice only, as she neared Sobrik. “I’ll be late.” 

“Any reason?” He asked, voice tinny in her ear. “I’m certain my master wishes to congratulate you for a job well done.” 

“Lieutenant Quinn’s tracked down the Jedi looking for me, I want to deal with that first.” 

There was a brief pause before Serrus replied. “I’ll inform my master, Force serve you in this. Best of luck.” 

“Appreciated.” 

She turned down the lane to the spaceport and parked her speeder before wrapping the Force around her like a cloak and heading inside. 

She made a bee-line for the hangar where _the Fury_ was waiting, hoping to intercept Till’in before he reached her ship and--more importantly--Vette. She listened for the sounds of combat and found nothing. While this should have been comforting, all it did was fill Marlitharn with a lingering sense of dread. 

She reached the elevator. 

“Marlitharn.” 

The voice was deep a warm with just the hint of a tinny buzz. Her every muscle tensed and her right hand went immediately for the lightsaber at her hip as she spun to face her hunter. 

“Master Till’in.” 

The Jedi Master was a tall Kel-dor male whose posture relaxed almost immediately when he saw her face. “Thank the Force you’re unharmed.” 

She cocked one eyebarb in confusion. “If you were hoping for a fair fight you’re underestimating my skill.” 

“Fight?” He seemed taken aback. “I’m here to rescue you.” 

Marlitharn snorted at that. “ _Rescue_ ,” she scoffed. “You mean empty me of my emotions? Take my passions and turn me into an obedient drone? Is that what you mean by _rescue_ , Jedi?”

“Don’t you know me, Marlitharn?” 

She shook her head and the white started pulsing behind her eyes. “I do not.” She ignited both of her lightsabers and pointed the right one at the Jedi. “Surrender or die, Jedi.“

“I know your skill, Marlitharn, but I will return you to Tython even if I must beat you down to do so.” 

She didn’t know what he meant by “return” her to Tython, but she didn’t like the sound of it. She lunged forward and Til’in blocked. He went to sweep her legs out from under her and Marlitharn jumped, using her sabers to force him back. They traded blows, the sabers singing as they went. Til’lin caught her in a bind and twisted the left saber out of her wrist with a pop. Marlitharn screamed. 

A blaster shot echoed in the space, deflected by Til’in’s saber. 

“I’m with you, my lord,” Lieutenant Quinn said, rushing to her side. 

“Behind me,” she insisted. She fixed her eyes on the Jedi and realized she had something to protect. 

Marlitharn darted forward, ignoring the way her broken wrist flopped uselessly. She brought her saber up to block Til’in’s strike. “You’ve given me the advantage,” she growled. “ _I_ don’t intend to take _you_ alive.” She kneed him in the stomach and jumped up so her other knee connected with his temple, sending him spinning. 

Lieutenant Quinn fired and Marlitharn used the opening that gave her to run her saber through the jedi, letting him fall to the floor. 

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” She asked, unable to place the desperate misery trying to fill her lungs as she looked at the body. 

“Fit as ever, my lord. Perhaps you will permit me to look at your wrist?” 

She looked down at her broken wrist as though remembering the injury. She turned and surveyed the Lieutenant. He stood straight as a rail with barely any sign showing there’d been a fight. That was good at least, the Jedi weren’t known for sparing Imperials who got in their way. “See to it the body is sent back to Tython,” Marlitharn said, the words a surprise even to her. “They should . . . they should be aware of what happens when they come for me.” 

Quinn looked confused but then his face cleared to that of careful neutrality. “Of course, my lord.” 

She held out her arm to him and Quinn stepped forward. With utmost care and consideration he wrapped her wrist to keep it from moving and administered a stim for the pain. Marlitharn smiled at him and thought she saw the pinkening of a blush on his pale cheeks. “My thanks.” 

Quinn opened his mouth to speak and closed it again as something in his pocket buzzed. 

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord. The other matter I'm overseeing for Darth Baras requires my attention.” 

“ Of course,” Marlitharn nodded. 

“I’ll meet you in my office, my lord,” Quinn saluted. “That we might debrief Lord Baras.” 

“Yes,” Marli sighed and nodded again. “That would be best.” She waited for the lieutenant to depart and then produced her own comm, switching over to Vette’s frequency. “Meet me at Lieutenant Quinn’s office.” 

“Already here.” 

“Right. Sorry.” Marlitharn shook her head.

“Are you alright, Marli?” Vette tilted her head to the side, lekku falling over her left shoulder to give her an affectionate, worried air.

“I’m fine,” Marlitharn said automatically, wondering _why_ it felt like such a terrible lie. “I’ll see you shortly.” She clicked the comm off and looked at Master Till’in’s corpse. Her heart ached for no reason. He was hardly the first person she’d killed. She didn’t even know him. And he was her enemy. She remembered something about how the jedi wanted to destroy the red sith. 

So why this pain?

Why this distracting misery?

_He took you to Tython_

Marlitharn pressed the heels of both hands into her eyes and tried to make the pain stop. She fell back against the wall, bent nearly in half with her teeth grinding together to keep from crying out. 

_Pathetic_

The moment passed. She straightened and left the spaceport for Quinn’s office. 

* * *

She checked in with Darth Lachris while waiting and was wrapping up as Quinn entered the room with a spring in his step. “I apologize for the delay, my lord.” 

She held up a hand to dismiss his concerns. “After your timely distraction with the Jedi, Quinn, I could kiss you.” 

His cheeks darkened and he cleared his throat. “I’ve heard from Darth Lachris’s apprentice, Lord Serrus. He asked me to convey his appreciation for your assistance in this matter and laments that he will not be here to see you off.” 

“Busy hanging the new ornament?” Marlitharn raised one eyebrow. 

Quinn gave her a very small smile in response, looking like he was trying to keep a straight face. “Yes, My Lord.” He inclined his head politely and turned to open the communication with Darth Baras. 

Marlitharn straightened as her Master flickered into sight. “My Master,” she bowed her head. “Balmorra belongs to Darth Lachris, as per your order. The Jedi Master Till’in attempted to interfere and has been dealt with.” 

“I assume you mean that he is dead, My Apprentice.”

“Yes, Master.” She looked up at him, so tiny and distant over the holonet. “Lieutenant Quinn proved invaluable in both efforts. As did Vette, the Twi’lek traveling with me.” 

“I am pleased to hear it,” Baras said, almost by rote. “They are to be commended. For now, return to your ship, Apprentice, I will brief you on your next mission there.” 

“My Master.” 

She waited to see if they were going to switch the holo off and when Quinn didn’t she shrugged and turned to face him. “Goodbye, Lieutenant. I’ll miss your rugged good looks.” 

It was worth it for the way his eyes widened at the _manner_ of compliment _in front of_ Darth Baras. It was also true. 

“Perhaps our paths will cross once more, My Lord.” He gave a small bow. 

Marlitharn didn’t voice that she hoped so, but the sentiment lingered as she left the office with Vette at her side. 

She ran into Ashlan, Darth Baras’s zabrak apprentice outside the building and Vette cheered immediately. “Hey,” she said. “I was hoping I’d get a chance to say goodbye.” 

Ashlan’s smile was blinding when it turned on Vette. “You’re leaving?” 

Vette nodded. “Mhm.” 

“I’ll mention your assistance to Baras,” Ashlan gave a low bow, indecently low to be offered an unranking twi’lek but one that endeared him very slightly to Marlitharn. “Thank you again, Vette.” 

He hurried into the building and Marlitharn gave Vette and expectant look. “What was that?” 

“Oh, I helped him get a deal on some supplies while I was dealing with the supplier myself. I can haggle and seeing the “sith I was serving” right there all snarly got me a better deal on his supplies and ours.” 

“Brilliant.” 

“I _am_.” Vette beamed. “I told them not to deliver or load anything until we were at the hangar though, something something sithy paranoia.” 

“I appreciate it.” 

She leaned against the crates that Vette perched atop while watching Lachris’s slaves load their supplies into _The Fury_. Vette nudged her with her knee and directed her attention to the entrance as Lieutenant Quinn entered the hangar. 

“What does he want?” Vette wondered aloud, sliding off the crate to land gracefully on her feet at Marlitharn’s side.

Marlitharn lifted her brow in expectant surprise as Quinn turned sharply upon seeing her, veering his course and coming to a stop a respectful five feet in front of her. 

“My lord,” he inclined his head. “I hope you don’t find my presence here too obtrusive, I beg an audience.” 

“Granted of course,” Marlitharn dropped her folded arms and held them behind her instead. “What’s on your mind?” 

“I recently received a promotion to Captain, my lord. And with it Lord Baras enabled my reassignment anywhere I choose.” 

“Congratulations, Captain.” She wasn’t sure what that had to do with her, but she was content to wait and see. 

“It is an evolution I have longed for and assumed would never come.” He replied, tone unwavering. “Aiding your mission on this planet has reawakened the ambition I began my career with--to make the most profound impact for the Empire.” 

“A worthy goal,” Marlitharn nodded her approval. 

Her eyes widened with surprise as he dropped to his knees in front of her. His right arm rested on his left knee and his eyes fixed up on hers. “I cannot think of a more glorious and honorable way to make a difference in the galaxy than to serve you,” he says. “I’m here to pledge myself to you. I’m ready and willing to serve in whatever capacity you see fit.” 

Marlitharn can think of _several_ capacities he could serve in and they’re all unprofessional. She can _feel_ Vette roll her eyes. It is, unfortunately, a little hard to believe that after a scarce few days working together he would choose to latch onto her instead of someone else. He seemed the sort to want to be on the front lines, not running the errands on one _specific_ Dark Lord. 

Quinn must have taken her silence for reticence because he cleared his throat and said, in a slightly louder voice. “My Lord, if given the chance I know I will prove myself to you. I’m a top-notch pilot, a military strategist and a deadly shot.” He gestured to _The Fury_. “I can fly this ship, plan your battles, assess your enemies and kill them. You won’t find a more tireless and loyal subject. I offer my military prowess and dedicate every ounce of my strength to your cause.”

He knew how to make a sales pitch, Marlitharn had to give him that much. “We-- _I’d_ \--” she corrected, “be pleased to have you, Captain.” She gestured for him to stand and extended her hand to welcome him aboard.

“The pleasure is mine, my lord.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze and she couldn’t tell if it was calculated or not. “I will submit my reassignment papers as we depart.” 

She nodded her approval and gestured for the three of them to head for the ship. 

* * *

_The Fury_ felt more like home with three people than it had with two. Something was still missing, but it didn’t feel as desperately lonely. Marlitharn paced in the night, looking in the Engine Room for what had been lost and finding Vette still awake. 

“He’s lying,” Vette said, recovering from her surprise at Marlitharn’s appearance with ease. 

Marlitharn blinked. Doc was many things but he wasn’t generally a-- _Quinn_ , who was the ship’s doctor but she couldn’t imagine being called _Doc_. 

“Not _lying_ , precisely,” Vette frowned. “I heard him talking to Baras. He’s _assigned_ here.” 

“Why not be upfront with it?” Marlitharn asked, looking around the engine room for whatever she had come in for. 

There was nothing out of place. 

“Because the sith are never upfront about anything,” Vette shrugged. “Just wanted you to know.” 

“Thanks.” 

“What are you doing, anyway?” Vette tilted her head, eyes curious. 

Marlitharn felt ridiculous. She cleared her throat. “Wanted to talk to you about Quinn. Thank you for pre-empting the conversation.” 

“Anytime.” 

Marlitharn returned to her quarters and wondered where her friend had gone. 


	7. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn exterminates The War Trust on Taris

The Captain proved to be efficient, professional and something pleasant to look at when Marlitharn was bored. She was bored a lot the first two days after they left Balmorra, waiting on Baras to direct them. Vette tinkered in the engine room, Quinn busied himself with navigation. Marlitharn paced between them, trying to remember what she _usually_ did to relieve herself of so much nervous energy. 

She could certainly think of an activity or two. 

Practice breathing. Feel the force around you. Meditate.

She locked her bedroom door as though she were up to something naughty and settled kneeling on the floor. She let her chin drop to her chest, hands on her thighs, and she took a breath to empty herself. There was something soothing in the ritual, something forbidden and shameful. She took another breath and let go of the shame. 

Another breath and she released her fears, feeling nothing but the Force as it flowed around her, free and clear, happy to carry her consciousness along. 

Her comm buzzed. 

Marlitharn’s eyes snapped open, the tranquility was gone. “Yes?” 

“We’ve got a call coming in,” Vette said over the comm. “Quinn thinks it’s probably Baras.” 

“I’ll be right out.” Marlitharn clicked her device off and reached up, carefully mussing her hair so she could make a scene of putting her ponytail back up as she reached the holo. 

No one need ever be the wiser. 

Baras flickered into view and Marlitharn bowed as she was bid. “My master.” 

“Apprentice,” there was a cruel smile in his tone. “I have exciting news. My master, Darth Vengean, has ordered the implementation of Order Zero, our first steps to open war with the Republic.” 

Marlitharn’s stomach did an uncomfortable twist. She opened her mouth to ask about the Treaty of Coruscant and her tongue felt too heavy to make the words. 

“Something _troubling_ you, my apprentice?” Baras asked. There was an edge to his tone she couldn’t place. 

“Where shall I strike?” she asked, almost defiant. 

“Taris. Four Republic generals--The War Trust--” Marlitharn nodded, she knew what that was, “are stationed on Taris. I don't care _why_ , I want them destroyed.” 

“It will be done,” She inclined her head and tried to ignore the wriggling discontent in her guts. 

Baras’s holo vanished and Marlitharn straightened. “Quinn.” 

“My lord.” 

“Set course for Taris. When we arrive I want you to accompany me to the surface. Vette will remain behind with the ship.” 

“Score,” Vette announced, her tone sing-songy. 

Marlitharn looked away, studying the floor with keenest interest. Taris was a colonization effort, there would be civilians there, people just trying to build a home on the toxic, rakghoul-infested world. 

“Are you alright, my lord?” Quinn asked. 

Marlitharn forced a smile and held her chin up, cocky and self-assured. “Are you offering to help with my . . . discontent. . . Malavai?” 

Quinn turned pink and cleared his throat. “Merely inquiring after your health, my lord. I’m your medic, after all.” 

“I’d say something flippant or flirtatious,” Marlitharn shrugged, “but I do actually appreciate the concern. Thank you, Captain.” 

* * *

Marlitharn lingered nearby as Quinn popped open his jacket and shrugged it half-off to allow a medical droid to administer the rakghoul vaccine. She admired his arms in silence as he redressed and when he noticed gave a very small shrug in lieu of anything vaguely apologetic. Quinn blushed again, just a little. 

She sat beside him on the flight down to the planet’s surface and when her knee touched his, Quinn made no attempt to move away until, embarrassed, she shifted so her knees were together and her back was straight. 

He walked just behind her as she got directions to Moff Hurden’s office. The moff was a short man with brown hair and a pencil thin mustache that didn’t suit his--or likely _anyone’s_ \--face. He was accompanied by one of the largest human males Marlitharn had ever seen. It was a rare day when she had to tilt her neck to look up at someone, but if the lieutenant wasn’t the height of the Lord Wrath, he was at very least fairly close. 

“Moff Hurdenn,” he said, stepping back from the holomap he was inspecting. “The Sith is here.”

“What’s that Lieutenant?” Moff Hurdenn looked up from whatever he was doing. “Oh, I didn’t see you come in. You must be the Sith Darth Baras sent. Welcome to Taris.”

“Thank you,” Marlitharn inclined her head politely. “I don’t have time for pleasantries, however. My mission is of the utmost importance. I need all the information you have on The War Trust immediately.”

“Yes, right. As I told Darth Baras, I have long sought an opportunity to assist him and am eager to contribute however I am able.”

“Thank yo--”

“I doubt she came all this way to be fawned on,” the lieutenant interrupted.

“Of course,” the Moff replied, nodding as if to a superior. “May I Introduce Lieutenant Pierce, on loan from our notorious Black Ops division. I give you exclusive reign of him while you’re on Taris, which I trust will accommodate your every need.”

Marlitharn studied Lieutenant Pierce. In addition to his size there was something clever about his eyes. Something that needed to be watched.

Moreso with the way he seemed to have the Moff twisted around his fingers. “Alright, Lieutenant,” Marlitharn nodded as she spoke. “Let’s see what you can do.” 

Pierce, gave a quick, curt nod. “Good.”

The Moff cleared his throat, eyes dancing nervously between them. “Well, I leave you two to your mission, then. As you proceed, if I can offer any further aid, do not hesitate to contact me.”

Marlitharn waited until the Moff was out of the room to relax her posture, folding her arms over her chest and sizing the lieutenant up. “Alright, Lieutenant, let’s hear what you’ve got.” 

“Got my hands on a republic officer and leaned on him, hard.” Pierce produced a holomap. “We hit these supply caravans we can get their transponders and triangulate General Frelka’s position.” 

Marlitharn’s smile grew a little more genuine. “Gotta love a man who does his homework,” she said, almost under her breath. “Quinn and I will hit the caravans.” In her periphery Quinn stood a little straighter. 

“Guess I’m running the tech then,” Pierce looked almost disappointed, his bloodlust forced into the backseat. “Here are the coordinates, caravans run daily, but they vary the timing. I’m sure you’ll come upon them eventually. Hit enough and snag the transponders, I’ll figure out where they’re going. Should zero in on General Frellka.”

“Excellent. I will be in contact.”

“Good. Glad to be moving on this, M’Lord. It’s been a long time coming.”

* * *

“Marlitharn?” 

Marlitharn turned when her name was called and stopped in surprise to see Katsulas exiting the cantina, a behemoth with a mouth full of teeth followed him closely. 

“Katsulas,” she gave a little welcoming bob. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while since Korriban.” She gestured to Quinn at her side. “This is Captain Malavai Quinn.” 

“My Lord,” Quinn saluted. 

“This is Khem Val,” Katsulas gestured to the monster walking with him. Khem’s eyes narrowed and he growled something she couldn’t quite make out. “No.” Katsulas said firmly. “Sorry about him.”

Marlitharn held up a peaceable hand and shook her head. “No worries. What brings you to Taris, I’m glad you passed your trials.” 

Katsulas’s shoulders dropped a little bit. “I’m looking for a ghost that might protect me from my master.” 

Marlitharn lifted one curious eyebarb. 

“Long story,” Katsulas said. “What about you?” 

“That is classified,” Quinn said immediately, puffing up his chest. 

Marlitharn gave him a curious look and then shrugged. It _was_ classified, as it was a direct violation of the Treaty Of Coruscant. “He’s not wrong. Sorry Katsulas.” 

“It happens,” Katsulas says amicably. “Think you’ll have time for drink later?” 

She nodded. “I hope so. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Friend of yours, my lord?” Quinn asked as Katsulas headed off in the other direction.

Marlitharn shrugged. “Something like that I guess. We assisted one another with our trials on Korriban and he’s . . . nice. Dangerous, certainly, but nice.” 

She and Quinn shared a speeder as they took off towards the supply caravans Pierce had indicated. Marlitharn drove, Quinn’s arms around her middle. With the Force she pulled him closer, muttering something about balance for turns. 

“Of course, my lord,” Quinn said. 

She had no idea if she was being sassed or not and she didn’t. . . mind. It felt familiar. 

_Right, Gorgeous, because I’ve suddenly gone blind._

They parked when they saw republic helmets and crept within striking range. One then two then three Marlitharn’s lightsabers bit through skin and metal while Quinn collected the transponders and uploaded the information to Lieutenant Pierce at base. While they waited for Pierce to compile the data, Marlitharn got an idea. She picked through the corpses until she found the man in charge and ripped the radio out of his helmet. 

“My lord?” 

“One second,” she said, twisting the frequency again. Through the static came voices and Marlitharn’s mouth curved to a cruel smile. “It’s possible the Jedi Enclave has some knowledge of the War Trust’s plans and whereabouts.” 

Quinn stared at her. 

“What?” 

“I’m merely impressed you knew which frequency that was off the top of your head, My Lord.” 

Marlitharn looked at the radio in her hand. 

_Why don’t we ever go anywhere nice, Marli? You know humans can catch the rakghoul plague. >_

__

“I--” her hands started to shake and she clenched them to fists. “Lucky guess. Will of the Force.”

“Of course, my lord.” 

She swallowed hard and hooked the radio to her belt. Her holocomm buzzed and she gave Quinn a nod. “Lieutenant,” she acknowledged Pierce as he materialized in his palm.

“Got ‘im, my lord.” 

* * *

The mine Pierce directed them too was full of miners and republic troops. Marlitharn spared the former where she could and cut down the troops as they got in her way, breathing in the comforting stink of flesh parted by her lightsabers. Near the back of the mine she caught the foreman and cornered him against the wall. 

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa!” The foreman shouted. “You got all the soldiers, we’re just miners, _contracted_ miners at that.”

“Where’s General Frellka?”

“He’s the overseer, but he ain’t exactly hands on,” the Foreman explained. His eyes dipped to the buzzing point of Marlitharn’s lightsaber. “He, he hasn’t been by in weeks. You gonna kill him?”

“Yes.” Marlitharn answered simply. “Yes I am.” 

_The Treaty, Marli._

“Well,” The Foreman gives a nervous laugh. “Way I see it, every job ends at some point and the Republic don’t pay me enough to get in your way, believe me.” His eyes risked Marlitharn’s for a moment. “If--If I hit the silent alarm, Frellka’ll come with his personal guard. If that’s what you really want, I can bring him here.”

“Do it.”

The Foreman pushed a button. “There, it’s done. Can we go?”

“Run,” Marlitharn urged. “Before I change my mind.” 

“My Lord?” 

She turned and gave Quinn a shrug. “There are too many of them to kill quickly and our priority is Frellka.” 

The miners fled in a panic. 

Marlitharn leaned against the wall, her eyes on the radio, listening to the back and forth. She looked up at Quinn and tilted her head to the side. “So, where are you from, Captain?” 

“My Lord?” 

“We’ve got time before the general shows up. I’d like to know more about you.” 

Quinn seemed to consider this for a moment before settling into parade rest. “Dromund Kaas, my lord. My parents were military as well.” 

“It shows,” she smiled to show she meant it as a positive. 

“And you, my lord?” 

Marlitharn bit the inside of her cheek. “I think . . .” the memories were blank. She could almost remember her father’s face but it slipped away. “I don’t know. I must have been taken from there as a child.”

“You must wonder about it.” 

Marlitharn shook her head. “Not usually. Do you miss Dromund Kaas?” 

Quinn’s tiny smile nearly undid her. “Some days, My Lord.” 

The interruption was unwelcome and Marlitharn scowled at the approaching forces. General Frellka was an older man, flanked by soldiers. “You show uncharacteristic mercy Sith.” Frellka pointed his blaster at her face and Marlitharn’s frown deepened.. “I am General Elaxis Frellka of the Republic Strategic High Command. Your incursion here is a violation of the--”

“Captain?”

Quinn fired, catching the man to Frellka’s left in the throat. Marlitharn threw herself forward, landing amidst the group hard enough to crack the ground beneath their feet. She spun, all legs and lightsabers until the General’s men lay in a steaming heap of detached body parts. When the battle was done, Marlitharn rummaged through Frellka’s pockets until she found his keycard and tossed it to Quinn.

“See what you can find,” she instructed. “I’ll update Lieutenant Pierce.”

* * *

Radio chatter from the Jedi Enclave pointed to it being the location of Katsulas’s ghost and she passed the information through Pierce while Quinn drove the speeder to General Minst’s hideaway. They parked outside the bunker and her comm buzzed. 

“Yes?” 

“Marlitharn?” 

“Katsulas.” A smile warmed over her mouth. “I hope the information proves useful.”

“Same,” Katsulas inclined his head politely. “I owe you a favor. This means a lot to me.” 

“Careful,” Marlitharn warned, “I may very well collect on that later.”

“Good,” Katsulas crossed his arms over his chest. “Still on for drinks later?” She nodded. “You should bring that cute captain of yours, I’d like to see him more relaxed.” Katsulas smirked. 

Marlitharn laughed. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Provided he’s interested.” 

She hung up and looked over at Quinn. “Care to join me for drinks Captain?” 

“I object to being used as bait, my lord.” 

“You’re not,” she assured him. “I intend to avoid putting you in those sorts of positions.” She touched his shoulder as she passed him. “You’re not a _tool_ , Quinn, you’re part of my inner circle.” 

“Then why would you bring me along, my lord?” 

“Because I enjoy spending time with you,” she looked up at the building. “And I’m pretty sure you enjoy spending time with me. Now come on, we’ve got a general to slaughter.” 

_A Jedi does not seek violence, Marli_

The bunker was more poorly defended than Marlitharn had expected and the whole of it stank like a set up. She found “General Minst” and studied him while he spoke. He didn’t _look_ like General Minst. 

_Shouldn’t all Rodians look the same to you, Marli. Why doesn’t he?_ Think _Marli,_ Think _._

Her headache started to return. 

_Strike him down_

“I--uh--I can’t do this,” “Minst” stammered, falling over himself. “I’m not General Minst, I’m just a grunt. I’m not going to die for this.” 

Kill Him

The warning system came off mute and Marlitharn ignited one of her lightsabers. The imposter tried to back away but she was quick and he was panicked and her lightsaber passed through his neck like it was made of tissue. She picked up his datapad and took the code to the bunker before running towards safety. 

Marlitharn skidded to a stop in front of the key pad and started to type, trying not to focus on her panic or the panic she feels radiating from Quinn. 

_A Jedi’s role is to protect_

She typed faster. 

Quinn pulled his blaster and started firing. “I’ll hold them off my lord.” 

She chanced a glance and say six commandos and three corpses. “I trust you,” she breathed, turning back to what she was doing while blaster fire whistled through the air around her.

“The immediate threat has been quelled, my lord,” Quinn’s voice shook with the effort of remaining calm. “However, this place will explode in exactly ten seconds . . . now.”

“The reactor core will self-destruct in ten seconds,” the unhelpful system alert blared.

“ _Shit_ ,” Marlitharn kept typing. “Well fuck, if there’s anything you want to say, I suggest saying it now.”

“I believe you know how I feel about you, my lord.”

Marlitharn kept typing until the door opened. She darted inside and Force pulled Quinn in, just to be safe, as the doors slammed closed behind them.

The world rocked as the reactor blew but Marlitharn kept her footing. Her attention turned to the Rodian general and his advisor. She narrowed her eyes in irritation as Minst berated her in rodese for her recklessness. 

She drew her lightsabers and darted forward, slicing through the human male at Minst’s side and then turned and screamed at Minst, the force ripping bloody from her throat to shred skin and bone. 

Marlitharn then turned her attention to Quinn. She stepped over the bodies, stalking towards him and hooked both lightsabers back onto her belt. “You _believe_ I know how you feel,” she said, one eyebarb raised skeptically. “I require an explanation.” 

“My lord I’m not certain that would be appropriate.” 

“And yet I’m certain I don’t care,” the adrenaline pumped through her veins. 

Quinn shifted a little, blue eyes widening as Marlitharn closed the distance between them. They were roughly the same height, Quinn had an inch or two on her, but that inch didn’t seem to matter. 

Marlitharn grabbed his jacket and hauled his mouth into hers. Quinn melted against her for a moment, tongue flicking into her mouth and his hands curled tight around her biceps. 

“My lord we have other matters to attend to,” he reminded her as the kiss broke. 

“Yes,” she stepped back and watched him adjust his jacket. “I’ll want to continue this line of conversation later.” 

She thought she saw him smile as she turned to leave. 

There’s no time to think about _that_ , however, as no sooner than she leaves the bunker her comm buzzes. 

“Pierce here.” 

“What’s the situation, Lieutenant?” 

“Tracked General Durant’s battalion,” Pierce said. “Led my black ops troopers on a recon run. Found Durant’s hideout. He’s got a full battalion guarding the compound. They’re establishing a perimeter of electronic defenses around the General.”

“Send me the coordinates. Captain Quinn and I are inbound.”

“Sent.” Quinn’s comm blinked. “My black ops troopers and I were able to slip past the perimeter before they got the systems online, but we were spotted. We’re taking fire. Outnumbered. Should be able to hold them off long enough for you to get through but that’s it.”

“Hang on, Lieutenant. We’re coming.”

“Well, we’re not going anywhere. Knock out those defense systems. We’ll hold position for you. Or worst case, our bodies will slow down their charge.” Pierce drew himself up and saluted. “Proud to have served, My lord. Pierce out.”

Marlitharn clipped her comm back to her belt. “We have to hurry.” 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

#

With Quinn at her side Marlitharn fought her way through Durant’s compound in hopes of rescuing Lieutenant Pierce and his men. The reports she received got more and more worrying and when she cleared the third laser gate she expected to find Pierce’s corpse. 

_What does it matter? A tool is a tool._

He was alive. He was the _only_ one alive and he was badly injured but he was half-upright and breathing and that was more than Marlitharn had expected. “Patch him up,” she instructed Quinn.

“At once,” Quinn nodded. 

“My lord,” Pierce grunted. “I spent all my ammunition and I’m down to my last medpac, but Durant’s battalion is down.” He winced as he tried to straighten. “So is my unit. Never seen men stare death in the face more bravely.”

“You did well,” she praised. “Will you live?” 

“Lost a lot of blood, but I’ll try to get back to base and get patched up. General Durant and his guards have retreated inside the compound. Proud I ushered you to the doorstep, my lord.”

“Captain Quinn and I will handle it from here, take our speeder and get back to base camp. Rest.” 

_Your Compassion Will Be Your Undoing_

“How are _we_ supposed to get back, my lord?” Quinn asked as Pierce disappears back up the tunnel. She turned and lifted one eyebarb.

“When we’re finished there will be nothing to stop us from hailing a shuttle. The lieutenant did the heavy lifting.” 

They slaughtered their way to the compound’s heart where General Durant was waiting. 

Durant’s real advantage was his blaster, some prototype or another. What Marlitharn cared about was the force with which it fired, the laser left the barrel hard and fast enough to make it difficult to deflect. 

But it took longer to charge. 

Marlitharn circled her opponent, and then darted in. She dropped one saber and force shoved Durant’s gun arm back until she heard it pop and then forced it further. She slid in low and brought her weapon up, opening the general like a purse. 

He hit the ground with a thump and Marlitharn picked up the prototype to toss it to Quinn. “That just leaves Faraire, right?” 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

“Good. The sooner we’re off this toxic world the better.” She rolled her shoulders. “Ugh I’m going to be sore all night.” She produced her comm and called the base to check on the progress in finding Faraire.

“Darth Baras wants to speak with you, My lord.” Pierce told her, sitting in the infirmary with his shirt off and a nurse sticking him with kolto.

“Patch him through, Lieutenant.” She inclined her head politely as Darth Baras flickered into view, the reception wavering because of the bunker. 

“Apprentice,” Baras’s voice oozed through the speaker, “your progress has been conveyed to me, and I have been briefed on the search for General Faraire. Moff Hurdenn informs me that Faraire has relocated all of the Republic’s forces on Taris to protect his command center at the Republic stronghold.”

“I’ll set out for the bunker after a short rest,” Marlitharn tried not to let the exhaustion seep into her voice. 

“Don’t be so hasty, apprentice. First, you must convene with me. This assault will take all our firepower. I’ve summoned your crew to the base, they will all be utilized.”

Marlitharn nodded. 

“And I’ve informed Moff Hurdenn that you are commandeering the entirety of his forces.”

“Yes, Right.” Hurdenn flickered briefly into view. “They are yours to command, my lord.”

“Then I will lead an army.” Marlitharn rolled her shoulders back. “I can lead an army.” 

“I have no doubt.” 

#

Quinn elected to retire to his rooms to “think” when they returned to the Imperial base and Marlitharn chose not to press. The kiss had been good, and she craved another, but she wasn’t going to drag it out of him. 

Instead she headed for the cantina and spotted Katsulas sitting alone at a booth. He waved her over and Marlitharn felt a small smile start to spread over her mouth. “Did you find your ghost?” 

“Yes,” Katsulas nodded. “And more besides,” he rolled his silver eyes and shook his head. “It never ends, does it?” 

“I hope not.” Marlitharn raised a hand to signal a serving droid. “The only end I can see is death and this is better.” 

Katsulas snorted and sighed. “Death, right. How’re your endeavors progressing?” 

Marlitharn shrugged. “I should be almost finished. Which is something of a relief. I may be immune to the Rakghoul virus, but my Captain isn’t.” The droid came over and Marlitharn ordered a Tarisian wine. Katsulas got the same. “Will you be on Taris long?” 

“I hope not,” Katsulas shrugged. “But I owe you a favor so I might stick around a little longer.” 

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him not to worry about it, that she was happy to help, but she choked the words back . 

She might _need_ that favor someday. 

The wine arrived and Marlitharn took a long drink. Conversations were hard at the best of times and this was a man she had met at the Academy and known for a scant handful of days. 

But he was personable and she wanted to like him. She _did_ like him. 

But she had nothing to say. 

“Where are you from?” Katsulas asked. 

She looked at the table and shook her head. “I don’t know.” 

“Ah,” Katsulas gave a sage nod. “I can relate. Sort of.” His smile dimmed, like he was holding on to it for her sake and not at all for himself. “I was raised by smugglers before--” he gestured to the brands beneath his eye. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“I appreciate that,” Marlitharn bobbed her head gratefully. “Can I ask what your master has you doing?” 

“Oh, I’m in between Masters at the moment.” Katsulas brightened. “I’m a Lord in my own right.” 

Marlitharn stared at him. “That was . . . fast.” 

“Extenuating circumstances. She’s got killed and . . . it’s. . . it’s complicated. The short version is that my new Master doesn’t want me. You?” 

“Murder and mayhem, can’t give out the specifics.” Marlitharn took another drink. “Darth Baras keeps me busy if nothing else.” 

“If you need any help, let me know. I’ve got no one pulling my leash at the moment.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Marlitharn smiled. “I should turn in though. Good night, Katsulas.” 

“Good night, Marlitharn.” 

#

Marlitharn gathered with Pierce (mostly recovered) and Quinn around the holoterminal, her hands folded behind her back until Vette flounced in and handed her a thermos of caf. 

“Didn’t bring enough for the guys?” Marlitharn asked. 

Vette slurped loudly. “Nope.” 

“I had mine this morning, My lord,” Quinn said as Marlitharn started to offer him the thermos. She shrugged and retracted the offer. 

The holo flicked on and everyone stood a little straighter. 

“Master.” Marlitharn gave a shallow bow. 

“Time is of the essence, apprentice. Lieutenant Pierce, Captain Quinn, bring my apprentice up to speed on our enemy’s activities.”

“Yes, my lord.” Quinn bowed his head and turned to address her, his hands folded behind his back. “It’s a fairly complex situation--”

“General Faraire, the War Trust’s most senior member, is garrisoned in a fortified wing of the Republic’s base,” Pierce interrupted. Quinn looked ready to shoot him. “He’s got a huge army protecting him, more reinforcements on the way. We’re outnumbered eight-to-one.”

“ _My Lord_ ,” Quinn put forth a second bid for her attention and she granted it. “The Lieutenant’s statistics are inexact, but the general thrust is sound. The numbers favor Faraire, but there are ways around that.”

“If I recall, tactical analysis is your speciality,” Marlitharn kept her smirk small. “What do you propose we do, Captain?” 

She listened intently as he laid out the bunker’s known weaknesses and she considered the strengths of the people with her. 

“There’s a sith lord here who owes me a favor, I’ll ask him to accompany me on the frontline offensive while Vette disables the traps and Pierce locks off reinforcements, all three teams will coordinate through you, Quinn, here at base.” 

She looked up at Darth Baras, “is this acceptable, my lord?” 

“Assigning your men is _your_ business, Apprentice.” 

“Then you have your orders,” she looked back at Vette, Pierce and Quinn and nodded once. “Let me contact my ally and we’ll be ready to begin. May the force be--may the force serve us well.”

Once the room was empty, Marlitharn leaned heavily against the wall and squeezed her eyes closed to ward off the sick feeling in her stomach. Something was _wrong_ , a warning of some variety. 

There was nothing she could do about it. Marlitharn took her holocomm and contacted Katsulas. “Remember that favor?” she said, offering a small smile. “I need your help killing a Republic General.” 

“Sounds interesting. I’ll meet you and discuss the details.” 

“Thanks.” 

#

The victory on General Faraire’s base was hardwon but with Kat at her side and her men well positioned, Marlitharn managed. She backed the general into a corner and smiled with he tried to run only to have Quinn and Pierce cut off his escape. 

“Excellent timing, Captain.” She inclined her head fondly. “Lieutenant.” 

“Sir,” Pierce salutes. 

The general turns and faces her, holding his hands behind his back. “Very well, I surrender.” 

Marlitharn glares at him and her hand tightens on the hilt of her lightsaber. Her orders are clear. She must execute General Faraire but--

“I can take him back to base,” Katsulas volunteers. “While you and your men clean up here.” 

Her grip on her lightsaber slackens. A _sith_ was willing to grant mercy and she--she was going to--

She _was_ Sith. 

Her head _ached_. 

“Thank you, Lord Katsulas.” Marlitharn managed, still staring at a point just behind Faraire’s head.

She barely listened as Moff Hurden called and placed Lieutenant Pierce under her command, offering only the smallest nod to Quinn as he escorted the newest crew member to the door. 

She waited until she was alone.

And then she screamed. 


	8. Poison And Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn hunts down Admiral Monk and is returned to the Emperor's Fortress.

_He’s looking for you Marli, you don’t have much time._

Marlitharn was the last to return the ship after their victory over General Faraire and when she did she appeared to be in a daze until Vette hesitantly touched her arm. “Are you alright?” 

Marlitharn cleared her throat. “Headache.” 

“Again?” 

She nodded. “I think they’re getting worse, Vette.” She stared at the floor, ashamed to admit any weakness. 

“You should _definitely_ talk to Captain Doctor about that,” Vette gave her a worried look. “Particularly if it’s getting worse.” 

“After I make sure the Lieutenant is situated,” Marlitharn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can I ask you to make me a cup of caf? I know you said you’re on strike for any domestic chores but--” 

“Yeah, I can bring you a cup of caf. Relax a bit.” 

“Thank you, Vette.” 

She took a deep breath to center herself and went to see how the Lieutenant was settling in. 

Pierce had taken over a room, his rucksack tucked in a corner and his weapons lined up on the table where he could inspect them. The conversation was brief, just enough for Marlitharn to gauge who she was working with while Pierce did the same. 

He made her uneasy and she couldn’t pin down why or how. It was something in the way he watched her, like he was evaluating her for weakness. 

But this was the Empire. Everyone evaluated everyone else for weakness. 

Vette met her with the caf while she was heading for her quarters and Marlitharn voiced a small protest as she was directed bodily towards the medbay where Quinn--having been informed that Marlitharn needed to speak with him--was waiting. 

“You’re persistent,” Marlitharn muttered to Vette. 

“Yep.” 

Marlitharn scowled and took a sip of her caf as she walked into the medbay. She gave Quinn an apologetic smile that he responded to with blatant confusion and settled on the table. 

“My lord.” 

“I’ve been having frequent headaches,” she told him. “Nothing I take for them seems to help and Vette is worried its a symptom of something serious.” She took another drink. “So, I want your opinion.” 

“It might be the effects of channeling the Force, my lord. Many powerful sith show signs of deterioration over time.”

Marlitharn considered that over the brim of her cup. “I don’t show any _other_ signs of Force Corruption,” she said. 

“We’re hardly equipped for more in-depth scans, my lord, but next time we land somewhere with proper equipment I suggest a full check-up.” 

“It’d shut Vette up anyway,” Marlitharn said with no small amount of fondness. 

“Nothing shuts that Twi’lek up, my lord.” 

“Watch it,” Marlitharn warned. “I like you, Quinn, but Vette’s more than earned her place at my side.” 

“Of course, my lord.” Quinn bent his head respectfully. 

Marlitharn took another drink of her caf. “Don’t worry about it, Quinn. I know you two don’t get along.” She slid off the table. “So, if I agree to see another medical droid can I go.” 

“I would never presume to hold you, My lord.” 

Marlitharn got a sharp smirk and leveled it at Quinn like a blaster. “What if I wanted you to?” 

“My lord I, that is,” he cleared his throat, blushing a light pink. “I am your loyal servant, my lord.” 

“That’s not an answer Quinn.” She shrugged. “We can talk about that later. For now, I need a nap.” 

_ Passionate emotions can destroy a person, And Jedi destroyed by passion become something terrible. _

* * *

She was meditating when someone knocked and Marlitharn flushed a deep purple and snagged her data pad so it looked like she was just reading. It was late. Who could possibly need her at this hour. 

With a wave of her hand she bid the door to open and stared in surprise at Quinn. “My lord, may I come in.” 

“Of course,” she set her data pad aside and beckoned him into her chambers, closing the door behind him. “What’s on your mind?” 

Quinn exhaled slowly. “My lord, you’ve caused me some . . .difficulty, and I’d like to confirm it was unintended.”

Marlitharn stared at him. “I’m sorry?” 

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but I’ve come to suspect you have an interest in me beyond our professional relationship.”

“Yes.” Marlitharn nodded. “Why? Wait, by _difficulty_ do you mean I’ve left you . . . tossing and turning in your bunk?” The euphemism falls playfully off her tongue.

“In a . . . manner of speaking, my lord. Which is why I bring it up. I’ll admit you have a knack for . . . surprising me. I’m typically swifter on my toes. I should have immediately said that any personal involvement between us could cloud judgement and jeopardize your campaigns.”

Marlitharn folded her arms across her chest. “You kissed me back, Quinn. And I believe the whole thing started because you told me I should know how you feel.” She took a step and closed the distance between them. “If I’m not scared of anything else, why would the risk of this be any different?” 

_There Is Only Passion_

“This . . .” Quinn leaned in like he was about to kiss her and then leaned back. His hands opened and closed in her periphery with the effort of not grabbing her. Marlitharn smiled as Quinn licked his lips and cleared his throat. “My lord, I am drawn to you, make no mistake. But this should not continue, it’s . . . improper.”

“Then it’s improper.” Marlitharn shrugged. “But I want it and if you want it I think we should go for it. Sith are creatures of passion, Malavai.” She opened the door behind him. “Stay or don’t.” 

“May I have a few days to . . . consider?” 

“Take all the time you need.” 

There is no emotion, there is peace

* * *

It seemed too convenient that Admiral Monk attacked Darth Vengean’s flagship just as Marlitharn was starting to look for him, but she said nothing to that effect as Darth Baras passed his instructions down to her. She bowed obediently and ordered Quinn to lay in a course. 

With her arms folded behind her back she paced in front of the holoterminal while Vette watched her, her legs over the back of the couch. 

“Something bothering you?” 

“It just feels too . . . convenient.” Marlitharn said, continuing to pace.

“The Darth’s flagship getting attacked is convenient,” Vette repeated. Before Marlitharn could argue that she knew it sounded ridiculous, however, Vette swung herself rightside up. “You’re not wrong about that.” 

Marlitharn blinked at her and then nodded slowly. 

“What do you want to do about it?” 

“I’m not convinced there’s anything we _can_ do about it,” Marlitharn said. “But it’s nice knowing my concerns are shared.” 

“That’s what I’m here for.” 

“I am grateful,” Marlitharn inclined her head a little. “That you’re here.” 

Vette smiled. 

They reached the flagship and she had Quinn open channels. When no one responded, she ordered them in and told Lieutenant Pierce to meet her at the airlock, they needed all the firepower they could get for this. 

The lieutenant was a man who didn’t feel the need to fill the air with empty words. She appreciated this. 

They breached the lower decks together, with Pierce providing covering fire as Marlitharn leapt ahead into the Republic boarders. Her lightsaber buzzed and hissed as it cleaved through metal and muscle with equal ease before she and Pierce advanced to the next point and on and up to the Bridge. 

Moff Masken was a small human male with dark skin. His lips quivered and then pulled back into a snarl as Marlitharn drew closer. “Moff Masken, I’ve liberated your ship.” She looked around. “Where is Admiral Monk?” 

“Well well,” Moff Masken began barely maintaining his composure through his obvious fury. “Come to inspect the scene of the crime eh? Admiral Monk and his top men jettisoned down to _Quesh_.” His nose wrinkled, as though Marlitharn smelled foul and distasteful. “I’m _so sorry_ you missed him. Are you here to deliver his reward? Offer congratulations?” 

From the corner of her eye Marlitharn noted the change in Pierce’s stance, his back foot sliding just a little to brace if he needed it. 

“I’m here to kill him.” She said slowly, as though explaining an obvious fact to a rather dim child. “Darth Baras sent me.” 

“Do you take me for an idiot?” Masken snapped. “ _This_ was a secret attack _yet_ I come out of hyperdrive to find the Republic’s mosk decorated admiral lying in wait. Admiral Monk had my force-field and docking codes--this _stinks_ of a setup.” 

It sounded and looked bad, certainly. Marlitharn wasn’t about to deny that. Why he was taking it on _her_ , however remained a--

No, it wasn’t a mystery. 

This was how advancements were made. Baras had maneuvered the flagship into the Admiral’s jaws in order to weaken Vengean’s power base. But how? 

Through his agents, obviously. He fed Monk the information through one of his spies. 

It was risky and it was _stupid_ at the start of a war he was chomping at the bit for, but it made a certain kind of sense. 

Masken continued to speak while Marlitharn thought. 

_“This,”_ he fumed. “Is why we have yet to crush the Republic outright.” 

“Right,” Marlitharn said dryly. “I don’t have time for this, I have to hunt down the Admiral you let slip away.” 

She turned to leave and got to Pierce’s shoulder before Masken barked, “Don’t you turn your back on me! You’re going to answer for--” 

_Destroy Them_

_ Marli, think. _

She turned and flung the Moff backwards into the console. “Lieutenant.” 

“Yes sir.” Pierce lowered his assault cannon and the motor on it hummed as he fired. Marlitharn kept her back to the conflict. When the gun was silent she looked up at her Lieutenant and nodded. “Thank you.” 

“Just my job m’lord.” 

“You’re good at it.” She folded her hands behind her back and started back towards the hangar where their shuttle was waiting. “Come on then, before the Admiral gets away.” 

* * *

_He knows where you are. He’s coming._

They returned to their ship and Pierce headed for his bunk while Marlitharn made her way to the cockpit. “Set course for Quesh,” she said, leaning her shoulder against the wall. “Did you know Moff Masken, Quinn?” 

“I never had the honor, my lord.” Quinn said plugging the coordinates in and turning the ship towards the planet below. “May I ask why?” 

“He insisted he was set up,” Marlitharn crossed her arms over her chest to keep from hugging herself. She felt ill, having callously ordered the deaths of men who were likely to but had not yet attacked her. She had simply ordered them killed. “He seemed to believe that Baras and by lesser extent _I_ had arranged the attack with Admiral Monk.” 

Quinn was quiet. 

“That’s how things are done with the Sith,” Marlitharn said. “Advancement, promotion. The application of betrayal where it’s clever.” 

He turned to face her. “Are you alright, My Lord?” 

“I had them killed,” she felt a miserable smile trying to claw its way over her lips and quashed the display of weakness before it could fix itself in place. 

“Very good, My Lord,” Quinn said and for the life of her she couldn’t tell if he approved or not. 

“I want you with me when I confront the Admiral.” Marlitharn urged. “In case.” 

“In case of what, My Lord?” 

She shrugged, unwilling to say _in case I need to be stopped_ because in that case she would take Vette or _in case it’s all true_ because there’s nothing he could do to stop or change it if that were the case. She simply repeated. “Just in case, Quinn.” 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

He followed her out of the cockpit and off the ship as they docked with the Orbital Station. Marlitharn half-listened as Quinn explained Quesh’s role in the war and the nature of the atmosphere. She tugged the sleeve of her tunic up for the injection and rubbed the spot before fixing her shirt. 

“It may be wisest to send Lieutenant Pierce to assist the local Imperial forces, Quinn said. She thought she caught and undercurrent of _he might as well be good for **something**_ **.** That Quinn was no doubt to professional to actually vocalize. 

His assessment of the lieutenant was _unfair_ , Marlitharn thought, but also not really her problem. She produced her holo and summoned Pierce’s visage. “Lieutenant.”

“M’lord,” Pierce inclined his head. “Tired of that stuffed shirt already?” 

“The captain and I are getting along fine, thanks.” Marlitharn allowed the informality Pierce radiated to melt some of the tension she was carrying. “Do you mind being leant out to the local forces while we’re on Quesh?” 

“If you think that’s the best use of me, m’lord.” 

“For now, I do. Get inoculated and get planetside, keep your comm on you.” 

“Yes sir.” 

She clicked the holo off and lead Quinn onto the shuttle that would take them down to the surface, leaning back against the seat and letting the ice back into her heart. 

It _had been_ a setup, she was almost certain. 

But what then was the point in sending _her_ in. Once the trap was baited and sprung why bother sending in backup. Did Baras think so little of Moff Masken that he assumed the offer of help would simply be taken for what it was? Did he want to be certain that neither Monk nor Masken escaped? 

It didn’t matter anymore. She had her orders,

Quesh was beautiful the minute she allowed herself to forget that the very air was trying to kill her. It stank, the Imperial forces having had no choice but to settle in a toxic bog, but the sky was painted with oranges and reds so much like fire she was amazed it didn’t give off heat. The sky was reflected in the stagnant bog water, coating the whole landscape in similar shades. 

However, it stank, the very air was toxic and she had a Republic Admiral to track down so her sightseeing was limited to the amount of time it took the obnoxiously slow elevator to reach her. 

Quinn worked out the basic trajectory of the escape pod and slid onto the back of her speeder, his arms wrapping around her waist as she took off in the direction he’d indicated. The upside to the literally toxic atmosphere was that Monk and his men would be forced to remain inside as much as possible until an extraction team could reach them and _that_ gave Marlitharn time and a more limited area she had to search. 

They found the ruins of the the escape pod near a bunker and parked the speeder outside the main entrance. Quinn drew his blaster and Marlitharn ignited both of her lightsabers. 

_He’s close now. You need to hurry_. 

Marlithan shook her head like an akk-dog dislodging water. 

Quinn gave her a concerned look and she shook her head to tell him not to concern himself. They carved a bloody swath through the Republic forces inside, the last of Admiral Monk’s men, with Marlitharn remaining near Quinn to deflect enemy fire back into the troops as they advanced. 

Admiral Monk was waiting for them, his weapons holstered but fire in his eyes. Marlitharn noted with some interest that his men had their hands away from their weapons as well. 

Perhaps he intended to surrender. 

She unignited her lightsabers and the Admiral took it as an invitation to storm towards her. Quinn kept his blaster trained on Monk’s chest. 

“What the _hell_ does Baras think he’s doing?” Monk demanded. “Sending you here after me.” He glared. “Is he trying to make it look good? Give himself an alibi? Because you can tell him _mission fucking accomplished_.” 

Marlitharn narrowed her eyes. 

“Almost all of my men are dead. You’ve done a great job making this look legit. Now _Back. Off_.” 

She wasn’t surprised, no matter how badly she wanted to be. The timing was the only part of this that didn’t slide into what she’d put together back on the ship. Baras needed to weaken Darth Vengean and this was how he’d done it. 

She supposed it was a _bit_ surprising that the mole had been Admiral Monk himself. It was certainly impressive. 

“How long since your defection?” She asked, mild curiosity driving the question. Maybe there was something in the answer that would tell her why Baras needed her to kill a puppet. 

Though probably he was just covering his ass. 

“My senior officers and I defected over a decade ago.” Monk answered. “You didn’t know? Baras didn’t _tell you_ we were following his commands?” 

Marlitharn shook her head silently and let that knowledge sink in. She could almost smell the fury and the fear that built up in the room at such a simple gesture. Quinn’s blaster never wavered. 

“This is foolish,” Monk began the bargaining even though he must have known it wouldn’t do him any good. “Our covers are intact. Why would he destroy something so valuable?” 

They Are Weak

“You’d have to ask him that.” Marlitharn clicked her lightsaber on and Quinn fired. Monk fell backwards, clutching the burnmark in his chest. Marlitharn deflected a couple of blaster bolts and then flung herself forward. She swept out with both weapons and severed two legs at the knees, toppling two of Monk’s officers. Their screams were cut short as she sank the tips of her weapons into their throats. Quinn shot the other officer in the forehead before advancing on Monk and popping him two in the chest and one in the throat to be sure. He had his weapon hostered and a kolto pack out by the time Marlitharn returned to him. 

She allowed him to patch up the few scrapes and burns she had sustained and ignored in the fighting. 

“So, have you considered?” she asked, trying to draw attention away from the sweet smell of burning skin and the way the weight was off now that the task was finished. 

“I have, My lord,” Quinn answered evenly. “It would be a mistake.” 

She nodded, perhaps a little resigned.

“But I’m not entirely sure I could stop myself if presented with the chance to kiss you again.” 

She nodded a second time, this time offering a small smile. “Would you like me to be less inviting, Malavai?” 

“I wouldn’t presume to ask you to change anything about you, my lord. If I could have a few more days.” 

“Of course, like I said, take as much time as you need.” 

They rode back to the Imperial Base and Marlitharn contacted Pierce and told him to meet them back at the ship as soon as he was done “managing” the Hutts. She and Quinn had a light dinner at the Cantina and then returned to the shuttle that would take them up to the Orbital Station. 

_You’re out of time, Marli._

She tried to dislodge the familiar, paternal voice. 

_He’s Here_. 

She walked in front of Quinn and therefore had an uninterrupted view of the sith waiting in the passageway that lead to her ship’s airlock. He was several inches taller that her and nearly twice as broad with a shaved head and silver jewelry sparkling in the yellow light as it dangled on his face tendrils. 

Behind him, clutching her throat, was Vette. 

Marlitharn immediately bent her knee in submission. “My Lord Wrath.” 

“Your manners have improved,” he mused. “But Our Lord Emperor tires of your absence.” 

Marlitharn blinked a few times. Fear threatened to choke her. “What did you do to her, My Lord?” She kept her words careful and calm.

“Nothing that will happen again if you come now and quietly,” he didn’t bother to raise his voice. “It’s time to go.” 

“My lord--” 

She cut Quinn off with a raise of her hand. “Quinn, bow and be quiet.” she hissed, “this is the Emperor’s Wrath.” 

She rose slowly. “Don’t harm my crew.” 

“Sentiment is a weakness.”

Her hands drifted down to her lightsabers. 

_ You beat him once, Marli. _

“Very well. There’s no need to cause a scene.” He brushed past her back out the airlock and Marlitharn paused, grabbed Quinn by the jacket, and kissed him full on the mouth. 

“Goodbye.” 

She followed The Wrath to his ship and obediently boarded. “Where are we going, My Lord?” 

The Wrath said nothing in reply. 

* * *

Marlitharn resumed her training as though nothing in the last four months had happened. The one time she mentioned Darth Baras, the educator stuck her in the spine with an electric prod and reminded her that her little “vacation” was over. 

She should never have been allowed passed the Dromund Kaas Academy walls. 

The Emperor’s fortress was both familiar and terrifying. A palpable dread settled over the cracks in her composure and widened them like expanding ice chipped away at stone. 

_You Will Obey_

The strange thoughts were louder here. Both the gentle, paternal thoughts that she felt she should have been more worried about and the thoughts that she recognized as those of her Master, The Emperor. 

She hoped Quinn and Vette were in better hands. 

_Don’t let him win. Free Yourself_

The thought was loud, familiar and she was all too alone in the fortress. She curled her thoughts around the light and willed herself to listen. 

_You’re stronger than his influence. Fight._

Marli struggled, feeling the thick purple-black around her for what it was. Control, possession. She curled more tightly around the light and let it fill her. Let it poke holes in the other, smothering influence. 

“Master Orgus?” she called hesitantly, as though waking up from a bad dream. “What happened?” 

_The Emperor clouded your mind in darkness, made you do terrible things.You’ve been the Emperor’s pawn a long time, but you’re finally free._

Marli shuddered, trying to remember what had happened. “The Emperor overpowered us. Master Braga, the others, we all . . . we fell.” She shook her head. “Then, nothing.” 

_You were not yourself. What you did in the time of darkness is not your fault._

Marli tried, and failed, to be comforted by the sentiment that she had done terrible terrible things, the nature of which remained a mystery but _hey_ her dead master thought it wasn’t her fault. That had to count for something, right? 

No. No it did not. 

_You’re still aboard the emperor’s fortress, surrounded by enemies but they think you serve them. Keep your true nature secret. Find a way out. Your dark ally will help._

“I have a friend in this place,” Marli scoffed. “Can’t wait to meet him.”


	9. An Occlean Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Katsulas (newly granted the title of Darth Occlus) learns what has become of Lord Marlitharn, and meets the newest Wrath of the Emperor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude guest chapter by me, [inkspot_fox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspot_fox/works), that takes place right after the end of Chapter 3 for the Sith Inquisitor. Features my Sith Inquisitor Katsulas and my Sith Warrior Ashlan. 
> 
> This is intended to smooth the transition between the end of the last chapter and the next chapter, which will jump the timeline very abruptly to the Shadow of Revan prelude. It should also (briefly) answer the question of "where the ass has Jaesa been this whole time?" And since this chapter features only my OCs, I've guest-starred to write it!

Katsulas leaned against the desk in his new office and tilted his head down in what was ultimately a futile attempt to stop his arms from shaking. He could feel the desk’s fine polish beneath his palms; the bitter, resiny smell reminded him of the museums on Alderaan. Every item within was considered _priceless_.

The desk wasn’t quite _that_ valuable, but like the Alderaanian antiques, it reminded him starkly of how, not so long ago, a mere splinter pried off the edge would have been worth more than Kat himself.

And now he was a member of the Dark Council. 

Katsulas closed his eyes and breathed. He focused on the deep well of raw power thrumming through his veins. He had been reforged— figuratively _and_ literally— and he would never allow _anyone_ to own him _ever again_. 

_Darth Occlus_. Katsulas wasn’t certain how he felt about his new name. As Darth names went, it wasn’t a bad one— he’d certainly heard _worse_ — but he wondered at Darth Marr’s motives for bequeathing it. Was it to make Katsulas’s ascension to Dark Council seem more legitimate to his peers? Or was it to send a message to Katsulas himself, one that said _‘your motives are inscrutable, and I will be watching you closely’_. Perhaps it was a combination of the two.

Katsulas was so tired of intrigue. Ever since first stepping inside the Korriban Academy three years ago, his life had been filled with nothing but endless Sith power games.

…now _there_ was a thought. 

He’d only walked the halls of the Korriban Academy three times since he’d left with Lord Zash so long ago. The first two times had been as a Lord on the run, but even then he had relished watching the very same people who had spat on him when he’d been an acolyte now tipping their heads in deference and addressing him as “my Lord”. 

How much better would it be now that he was _Darth Occlus_ , Head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge?

If anything could calm his nerves, it would be looking down on the Academy’s great hall from its highest railing as one of the Empire’s leaders.

Word travelled quickly. No one hindered Katsulas’s progress through the hallways to the elevator. The guard whose son had died in the proving grounds straightened as Katsulas passed by him. Kat doubted the man even remembered his face from back then, but he knew him now as Darth Occlus.

Kat swept by him without a word and descended the elevator to the Academy’s second story walkway, where he leaned against the stone railing and looked down on the scurrying acolytes and instructors below. 

And immediately froze, his silver eyes narrowing as he stared at a figure that most _decidedly_ did not belong, but more importantly was one that he recognized. The Captain’s back was half-turned to Katsulas, but Kat wasn’t likely to forget those shoulders, or those biceps, or that _ass_.

The Captain turned slightly to address a tall, dark-haired human woman, giving Katsulas a better look at his face.

Yes, that was _definitely_ Lord Marlitharn’s Captain. Which meant…

Katsulas strode down the Academy steps, ignoring those who cast him curious glances, and walked straight up to the Captain. The Captain, spotting him and apparently recognizing him, turned fully and bowed from the waist in deference. “My Lord,” he greeted, “congratulations on your ascendance to the Dark Council.”

Word travelled _exceptionally_ quickly, it seemed.

“Thank you, Captain,” Katsulas replied, flashing his teeth in a smile. “You’re looking quite well. Is Lord Marlitharn around here somewhere?”

The Captain’s expression went flat and hard as a stone, and Katsulas knew something was wrong. His chest tightened and a swell of cold dread filled his stomach. “What’s happened to Lord Marlitharn?”

The Captain could not ignore a direct question from a Dark Councillor, but he looked for all the galaxy as though he wanted nothing more. “Lord Marlitharn . . . was taken by the previous Lord Wrath. Her whereabouts are unknown.” 

The chill in Kat’s stomach turned to ice. Even _he’d_ heard of the Emperor’s Wrath— more like “the Emperor’s Personal Executioner”. 

What the _fuck_ could she have done to earn the Emperor’s own ire? Katsulas couldn’t even guess, and moreover, he didn’t really care what she might have done; he was more concerned with the fact that she was _gone_.

“I… see.” Kat’s shoulders sagged. “My condolences, Captain.”

The Captain’s expression moved to one of dispassionate acceptance. He inclined his head politely. “It was the will of the Emperor, My Lord.” 

Katsulas nodded, because what else could he do? What else was there to say? He was about to turn and walk away, when he heard a warm, chipper voice say: “Did I hear you’re looking for Lord Marlitharn? Didn’t realize she had a friend outside her crew.”

Katsulas turned and looked up— and _up_ — at a tall, lean zabrak with medium brown skin and a grin that was as bright and warm as his scarlet hair. Katsulas frowned. _She was taken by the Lord Wrath_ , he reminded himself. _That probably means treason of some kind_. “She was… an acquaintance,” Katsulas hedged smoothly. 

The zabrak cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Look,” he said, “I don’t actually care what my predecessor wanted with her. None of that business was passed down to me, so it’s not my job to care. Friends or not, makes no difference to me, but you were asking about her, which means you care at least a little. How’m I doing so far?”

Katsulas stared at him and blinked as he tried to process the rapid-fire speech and the alarming deductions that came with it. _Predecessor_. _Fuck,_ he thought. _This is the new Wrath_. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere, Lord Wrath,” Katsulas said as calmly as possible.

The zabrak grinned wide, showing his sharp teeth, but there was no actual menace in it. “Thought you might say that. Your office, then? You have an office now, right? Or do you just have the one on Dromund Kaas?”

“Uh.” Katsulas blinked. “Well, my Lord Wrath, as head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge I do indeed have an office here at the Academy. I’ll show you the way?” He wondered if he was about to get murdered in his own brand-new chambers.

“Ashlan,” the zabrak said. “Name’s Ashlan, or Darth Ashlan.”

 _That can’t be your Darth name_ , Katsulas thought, but wisely did not say. 

Ashlan turned to address Marlitharn’s Captain and the dark-haired human woman standing next to him. “Quinn, Jaesa, return to the ship and prepare for our departure. I’ll join you presently.”

Jaesa and the Captain (whose name was apparently Quinn and Katsulas _should_ have remembered that) bowed low, and Katsulas could sense actual relief from Quinn. Marlitharn was a deeply sore subject, it seemed.

Katsulas still couldn’t quite believe she was gone. In retrospect, he hadn’t known her particularly well, but she’d left such a _good_ impression on him. He wasn’t sure he’d have survived Korriban without her, and she’d had no reason whatsoever to show him kindness. It wasn’t the Sith way. At least, not according to most Sith.

“She’s new,” Katsulas noted, nodding in the direction of Jaesa’s back as she and Quinn departed. “Your apprentice?”

“Something like that, yes,” Ashlan responded, a bit cryptically.

Katsulas raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged, taking that to mean that Jaesa was _more_ than just Ashlan’s apprentice, and that really wasn’t any of Kat’s business. “This way, then.”

Kat hadn’t even had a chance to settle into his new office yet, and already it was hosting the Wrath of the Emperor. He really, _really_ hoped the pattern of “ascend to a higher position in the Sith Hierarchy, get stabbed by your immediate superior” wasn’t about to continue into Round Three.

But Ashlan’s demeanor didn’t change once they reached Kat’s office. The sunny disposition didn’t fade, and his smile remained genuine. “Nice place,” Ashlan commented. “Is that a _Laroon_ wood desk?”

Katsulas looked down at the desk, blinked, and shrugged. “No idea. I got this office… an hour ago? I’m assuming it belonged to Thanaton, so he would know. If he wasn’t… dead. Look—” Katsulas looked up at Ashlan and squared his shoulders— “I have to know if you’re going to get on my ass about my association with Marlitharn. I just wanted to know what happened to her.”

Ashlan lifted both of his hands up, palms out, and shook his head. “No, I meant it when I said I don’t care. The only reason I even know about her is because her ship and crew were transferred to me.” Ashlan’s smile widened into a grin. “Though I certainly wouldn’t _object_ to getting on your ass if you really wanted me to. It’s a good ass.”

“I—” Heat burned in Kat’s cheeks. “Do— are you this informal with _everyone_ you meet?”

“Nah.” Ashlan shrugged. “But you seem like you’re more comfortable with informalities and blunt honesty, and this isn’t official business by any means.”

 _Huh_. Maybe this was going to be okay after all.

Other than the fact that Marlitharn was _dead_ , and Katsulas was still trying to square with that fact.

“So,” Ashlan continued, “Marlitharn. I’m sorry you found out the way you did, by the way. Quinn’s not…” Ashlan paused, searching for the right word.

“Tactful?” Katsulas offered.

Ashlan shook his head. “No, he’s plenty tactful. He’s also the most _formal_ man I’ve ever met, and the situation with Lord Marlitharn seems to be a particularly sore spot for him. He won’t even speak to me about her. I mostly heard about her from Vette and Lieutenant Pierce. Vette took it particularly hard.”

Katsulas remembered a rutian twi’lek who’d seemed exceptionally at ease and informal with Marlitharn on Taris. That must have been Vette. Kat hadn’t really interacted with her, but she’d seemed nice enough. “What… what happened?”

Ashlan sighed. He snagged a chair and turned it around so that he could straddle it backwards, his arms crossed over the top of the back rest. “The way Vette told it, the former Emperor’s Wrath boarded Marlitharn’s ship while she and Quinn were dealing with business on Quesh. He’d nearly choked Vette to death, demanding to know where Marlitharn was, when she returned. He seemed to have an interest only in her, so if there was any treasonous activity, none of the rest of the crew knew about it or were punished for it.” Ashlan shrugged again. “Vette said the Wrath made some mention of the Emperor himself demanding Marlitharn’s presence, and Marlitharn left with him willingly, presumably to spare her crew from further violence. After that point… she simply vanished.”

Kat’s chest throbbed with a heavy, deep ache. “There’s… is there any chance that she’s still alive?”

Ashlan ran one of his hands through his spiky red hair. “I’m a big believer in ‘they aren’t dead until you see the corpse with your own eyes’, but…” He trailed off with a sigh and a shrug.

Kat let out a long, shaky breath and sat on the edge of his desk as his knees began to buckle treacherously. He’d lost a great many people over the course of his short life, and he didn’t know why Marlitharn was any different, but somehow… she was. Maybe it was her decency— the effortless way she’d treated him (and Vette for that matter) as an equal worthy of respect. Maybe it was Kat’s own desperate longing to have a friend, an actual _friend_ he could trust and confide in, and something he’d sensed in Marlitharn had suggested that she could be that impossible person.

It was the loss of what might have been— and now could never be— that ached so keenly.

“Well, _fuck_ ,” Kat whispered. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashlan said, and he felt sincere.

“Why do you care, though?” Katsulas looked up and swallowed through the tightness in his throat. “I mean, I get that you were curious, sure, but curious enough to follow me up here for a private chat? No one’s that compassionate.”

Ashlan gave Katsulas a crooked, lopsided smile, and for the first time Kat could detect an edge of bitterness along with the sympathy. “Yeah, well, you’ll find that I’m the exception to a… lot of Sith traditions and expectations.” His smile widened into something like a grin— only sharper, like a shark’s— and moved one hand in a broad circling motion around his face to indicate his tattoos and horns. “As evidenced.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Katsulas admitted with a tiny smile of his own. Despite his lowly origins, Kat was at least _human_. If he’d been an “alien”, he would have had a much, _much_ worse time.

“But,” Ashlan continued, returning his arms to folding on the back of the chair, “you’re also right; normally I wouldn’t take this much of an interest. But, well…” Ashlan frowned. “Vette’s spoken at great length about Lord Marlitharn. Did you know that Marlitharn went out of her way to help Vette find her long-lost sister? And then paid for her freedom from a Nar Shaddaa pleasure barge without even batting an eyelash?”

“I didn’t know, but it doesn’t surprise me,” Katsulas said with a warm, fond smile. He curled his hands around the edge of the desk and leaned forward just a little, his feet kicking idly back and forth a couple of inches above the floor. “She could be ruthless, but she was never cruel. She was… just. Fair. She showed compassion to those who needed it.”

Ashlan nodded. “There are… not enough Sith like her. _She_ is what the Empire needs more of. Honor,ruthlessness when required, but tempered by fairness. And yet… she was taken by the Emperor’s Wrath and not heard from since.”

Katsulas looked up and tilted his head slightly to one side. He moved one hand from the desk edge to idly spin the beads in his side-braid. “It’s a puzzle,” he guessed, “and you saw another piece. You wanted to put more of the picture together.”

Ashlan nodded, and then the cheeky grin returned. “Also, you’re cute as hell, so even if the puzzle’s a bust, I get some eye candy out of it.”

Kat barked a startled laugh. “Yeah? Well, I can’t fault you for that. Means I get some eye-candy too, even if it’s attached to a ridiculous ponytail.”

“Hey! I _like_ my hair.”

“I can see the appeal, I suppose. Mostly as a handhold.”

Ashlan seemed to consider this. “You know, it’s never been used like that, but I’ll admit, the idea has some merit.” Ashlan did something with his forehead that, on a human, would have translated to waggling his eyebrows. “Want to test it?”

It was… probably a bad idea.

But Katsulas had had, and _done_ , worse ideas. And he desperately wanted to forget about the hollow void sucking at the inside of his chest. “Mmmm, I think I’d rather hold on to your shoulders and back, but we could get creative.”

Ashlan stood up from the chair in one smooth motion, and _stars_ , he was tall. Katsulas shifted his hands backwards along the desk and tilted his head up, and _up_ , and felt his breath leave his throat. Ashlan was looking down at him with an expression of delighted surprise and distinct interest. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be down, but I’m sure as fuck not going to say no.”

“I’ll only be _down_ if you push me down,” Katsulas replied, grinning and leaning a little further back invitingly. “Come on, I need to break in this new desk.”

“Are you sure? On the laroon? That shit’s close to priceless.”

“Yes, yes it is,” Katsulas said, “and that’s exactly why I want you to fuck me on the desk. Come on, just picture some puffed-up museum curator clutching their chest and wailing ‘but the _patina!_ ’”

Ashlan snorted with laughter. “You’re absolutely right, how could I have been so blind.” And then he shoved Katsulas to his back on the priceless laroon wood desk and kissed him.

Katsulas curled his legs around Ashlan’s waist and let himself forget, at least for the moment, about the pain of loss.


	10. Korribanni Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn sets foot on Korriban for "the first" time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like a half-chapter but I didn't want to just rehash the flashpoint.

Korriban’s sun beat down like the hammer against the anvil.

Something itched at the back of Marli’s thoughts the moment her boots touched down into Korriban’s red sand. She tried to clear her thoughts and focus only on the task at hand, but it lingered. 

It lingered as she and Kira fought their way to the steps of the Korriban Academy. 

The statues looked like her. Stern features with tendrils and bonespurs, narrowed eyes and expressions. 

The academy was in shambles. The first wave had dropped bombs to soften the Imperials up and the ancient stone temple had born the brunt of it. Marli felt a pang of regret—for Scourge’s sake—at the destruction and reminded herself that this was why, despite his complaints, she had left him on _The Defender_. 

Done in pitch black stone but they were sith as she was sith. 

She _knew_ this passage, Marli thought as she and Kira turned left to face one of the remaining overseers. She hadn’t thought Scourge had been _that_ descriptive when he talked about the academy but she could almost recall the path. 

And she’d certainly never been there before. 

She knew the face of her enemy. An old woman with milky white eyes who stared at her and then snarled, “Traitor!” 

Kira cut the old woman down quickly after that. 

“Kira?” Marli asked. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Kira gave her a bright smile, something worrying lingering at the corners. “Probably just didn’t expect a pureblood jedi.” 

Marli nodded on impulse and took the code fragment off the overseer’s corpse. 

Familiar. So familiar. 


	11. Manaan Manaan (Doo Doo Do Doo Do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marli heads to Manaan to meet up with Theron Shan while investigating Colonel Darok's possible Imperial ties.

There was a hole in Marli’s memories, but as time went on she decided to be comfortable with it. Kira, Doc, Rusk, and T7 all seemed to share a secret pact that--whatever she had done--it wasn’t to be brought up or mentioned even if she asked. Doc said that sometimes repression was healthy and Kira said that if the force wanted her to remember she would. Rusk simply fell to parade rest and apologized but he wouldn’t divulge the information unless ordered and he said it in a tone that told her not to order him. 

_**Memories = Painful // Jedi = Better Off Without Them.**_

So it was either get frustrated or be comfortable with not knowing, and only one of those felt like a long term solution. They all seemed to trust her regardless and at the end of the day that was what mattered.

There was a hole in Marli’s memories and sometimes she got glimpses of a gentle-faced twi’lek girl and a stiff-backed imperial, but those thoughts faded with her first cup of caf every morning. 

They felt like they mattered, but she couldn’t cling to the memories long enough to remember why or even who they were, and things moved too quickly for her to focus on trivial details like what she had forgotten. 

She defeated the Emperor’s plans on Belsavis and Voss and when Scourge kissed her the night before they landed on Corellia she went willingly between his sheets. 

And almost held the memory of the stiff-backed imperial before it dissipated. 

Time passed after the Emperor’s defeat and the hole in Marli’s memories was like an open grave she had to be careful to move _around_ or risk falling into. Distracted on Ilum by Darth Malgus’s revolution, Marli stopped trying to recall her imperial or the twi’lek girl, no longer able to summon the image of their faces. 

Whomever they had been, they had been part of whatever terrible purpose the Emperor had set for her. She should be grateful that they were gone and forgotten. In any event, there were more important things to worry about now, like whyever Theron Shan had summoned her to Manaan. 

“Scourge will come with me,” she told her crew. No one had the decency or inclination to look surprised. Kira waved her off from the _Defender’s_ landing gear. “I’ll see about resupplying while Doc is out _shopping_.” 

“Manaan’s the only supplier of kolto in the galaxy, babe,” Doc defended himself. “You’ll love me for it later.” 

“Behave you two,” Marli shook her head and rolled her eyes. 

Scourge wouldn’t tell her what had happened while she’d been enthralled either, and she was certain it wasn’t because he shared in whatever pact the others had formed. She was equally certain it wasn’t to spare her any injury. Probably whatever she’d done had been severe enough that knowing would “hamper her efficiency,” or however Scourge would say it. 

And that didn’t make her feel at all better. 

They were lovers in the technical sense, but the phrase “antagonists with benefits” would have sat more comfortably on the tongue. 

Scourge, she knew, did not love her. Scourge was incapable of love and while that wasn’t his _fault,_ his ability to pick up on glimmers of her emotions didn’t change anything. 

It also didn’t stop her from rising up on her toes to kiss him once she was certain no one could see. Scourge’s mouth moved to a cruel smirk under her lips just before they parted. 

“The others know,” he pointed out. 

“They don’t need actual _proof_ ,” Marli crossed her arms and lowered back onto her heels. “It’s bad enough that we--that _I_ \--” she huffed. “I’m a jedi.” 

“Your infantile complaints ring hollow when you’re the one initiating.” 

“You’re not _wrong_ ,” she reached up and tugged her ponytail tight. “Come on, I wanna see what Theron has for us.” 

Scourge followed her through the crisp white halls of the building Theron’s note had indicated. Their footsteps echoed on the metal tile and Marli caught herself trying instinctively to walk more softly. 

The hard soles of her boots didn’t seem to care.

Theron was waiting in a conference room, looking tired and tense but he smiled when he saw her. “There you are.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Marli had about half a second to be concerned about how easy Theron was to smile at before his smile dimmed and hers dimmed with it. “So, what are you doing here, Theron?” 

“Digging,” Theron gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Just like I said I would. Let me show you what I’ve got.” 

He ran down the information for her. That none of the _intelligence_ Colonel Darrok had claimed to be after had ever made it into the hands of the SIS and that he—the Colonel—had been found frequenting this genetics lab. The same genetics lab that a dark councillor—Dark Arkous, with whom Marli had briefly spoke—was frequenting. 

Put all together, it looked and sounded odd and possibly treasonous. 

“So you want me to investigate the lab and see what I can find?” she asked. 

Theron nodded. “And while you’re doing that, I may have found us an ally.” 

* * *

Marli was more than happy when the small escape pod broke above Manaan’s watery surface with her and Scourge both safely inside it. They directed the pod back to the city they had left, where they were supposed to meet with Theron and his mysterious sith allies. The woman who had contacted them over the holo wasn’t someone Scourge recognized. 

Marli disliked being in the dark. 

And she disliked the idea of leaving Theron alone too long with multiple sith, regardless of how well the spy could take care of himself. 

They made it to the meeting place without interruption and Marli felt a familiar presence she couldn’t place. The reflection of a glimmer in the force. Scourge’s hand touched her shoulder, enough to steady her as her step faltered. Marli shook her head, whatever it was, she was fine. 

Turning into the room Marli caught the end of a conversation. 

“I just think it would make things more comfortable if you both got rid of your lightsabers,” said Theron. 

This was greeted with a small snort from the shorter of two very short sith. He had warm brown skin and jet black hair with a beard. Something about him was familiar, maybe the curve of his smile or the way he rolled his eyes while Theron spoke. Beside him was the woman from the holo, only much shorter than Marli would have guessed from her bearing. Both sith were human and both turned their attention to Marli when she entered the room. 

“This is—”

“Marlitharn?” the male sith breathed her name with unmasked surprise. “You’re—” he cut himself off. 

Marli blinked at him, pursing her lips in confusion. “Yes? I’m Master Marlitharn with the Jedi Order.” 

“This is Darth Occlus, a member of the dark council currently investigating Darth Arkous,” Theron gestured to the man. “And Lana Beniko, one of Arkous’s advisors. Both are heavily armed sith lords.” 

“Pleased to meet you both.” Marli gave Theron a wry smile before correcting her features to stern, jedi calm. “This is Lord Scourge, another heavily armed sith lord.” 

Darth Occlus looked Scourge up and down and then his eyes returned to her, fixing on her with an intensity that made her want to demand an explanation. “Arkous and Darok _are_ working together, so that’s proof of treason on both parties at least.” She gestured to Jakarro. “This is Jakarro and D4, they may know more.” 

Theron and Lana left for talk with Jakarro, leaving Marli, Scourge and Darth Occlus alone in the room. 

The silence between them was awkward, with Occlus trying and failing not to stare are her and Marli trying and failing not to notice. Scourge, however, seemed about as comfortable as he ever did. Picking up on Marli’s unease and using it to feel alive again, as he used all of her emotions when she wasn’t smothering them. 

“Have you worked with Lana Beniko long?” Marli asked. 

Occlus shook his head. “Not long—where the _fuck_ have you been? Since when are you a _Jedi_?” 

Marli was taken aback. “I’ve _always_ been a jedi.” Idly and irritatedly she wondered if this was because she was a red sith. Did he just _assume_ she was a redeemed sith lord? Or that she had to tell him her whereabouts because of some accident of birth. She took and exhaled a breath. _There is no emotion, there is peace_. “I understand that might be hard to believe, given the circumstances,” she said in an even tone. 

Scourge snorted with disdain and she glared at him before forcing her expression back to neutral. 

“No you—” Occlus started to argue and then deflated, as all the fight went out of him. “You don’t remember me… do you?” 

He looked hurt. 

Marli’s head started to throb. There was something there, the glimmer she’d sensed earlier. 

_You Did Terrible Things, But It Isn’t Your Fault._

Marli narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “No,” she said icily, “No I don’t.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask but she didn’t know if she _wanted_ to remember. Or if she could trust whatever story a Dark Councillor decided to spin for her. The Sith were known for duplicity and lies, it was entirely possible that he knew what the Emperor had done to her and intended to twist her for his own nefarious purposes. 

What was taking Theron so long. 

Darth Occlus deflated further with the ice in her voice, his eyes—a bright enough silver that they stood out even from where she was standing—widened and then closed with defeat. “I see,” he said, sounding more tired than anything. “That’s… yeah.” He took a breath and then straightened his shoulders and his expression closed off when his eyes opened. “So were you able to learn any more about Arkous and Darok’s elopement?” 

“Elopement?” Marli blanched. 

Darth Occlus gave a very small smile. “I know what I said.” 

Marli snorted a laugh and then cleared her throat to cover and pretend that she hadn’t. “Not really, unfortunately they tried to blow me up before I got the chance to really slice into any of their systems. They’re trying to build and invincible army though, because why _wouldn’t_ they be.” 

“See, we need peace between the Empire and the Republic so people like Arkous can have cross-faction boy-toys without having to resort to galactic conflic—Hey Lana.” 

“ _My Lord_ ,” Lana looked less than pleased as she and Theron re-entered the room with Jakarro trailing along behind them. 

“I’m not wrong,” Darth Occlus crossed his arms, the top of his head coming up to about Lana’s eye-line so he had to tilt his head back to look her in the eye. “Scourge here at least had the courtesy to defect when he wanted Republic tail… no offense. I have _also_ done reckless things in the pursuit of dick.” 

Marli’s eyes threatened to bug-out of her skull. 

Scourge let his arms fall to his sides. “That is not what happened.” 

“Sure, sure, I’m just saying what the Dark Council is thinking.” 

Marli opened her mouth to retort. Found she couldn’t think of anything to say. Closed her mouth. And settled for glaring. “I’m a _jedi_.” 

Scourge snorted unhelpfully. 

Marli was going to kill all of them. Politely. Because she was a jedi. 

Theron, force-send that he was, cleared his throat. “Back on topic, we should all get back to our respective sides and do some more digging to figure out _where_ Arkous and Darok are planning to build this invincible army.” 

“Good idea,” Marli said, probably too quickly. She turned her attention to the sith and gave a shallow bob of her head. “It was… interesting meeting you.” 

Occlus’s smile dimmed and he returned the bow with one of his own. “Yeah. Good to meet you, Marlitharn. May the Force serve you well.” 


	12. Far From Invincible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marli lands on Rakata Prime to deal with Arkous and Darok

Marli got no sleep as she flew towards Rakata Prime to meet up with Theron and the others. She tried, curled on her side with her head resting on Scourge’s shoulder and her leg thrown over both of his, but the beat of his ancient, evil heart did nothing to drown out the static in her ears. The sound of something clawing to be let out. 

“Scourge,” she murmured, “do you know what I did to serve the Emperor?” 

Scourge was quiet for a long moment, long enough that Marli thought he might have actually been asleep. He rolled over and put a hand against her cheek. A simple gesture with nothing behind it, but Marli took the comfort regardless. 

“You are wondering if you knew Darth Occlus.”

Marli nodded. “Was he part of—of whatever I became.” 

“I do not know. I was charged with your training on the Emperor’s Fortress. You disappeared briefly and I was sent to find you.” 

Fear coiled in the pit of Marli’s stomach, that it was during her unexplained absence from the Emperor’s Fortress that the “terrible things” Master Orgus had eluded to had taken place. If it hadn’t been under the Emperor’s nose, then how much of it had just been _her_? What if she was everything the masters on Haashimut had feared she would grow into? 

Scourge’s hand slid from her cheek to curl lightly, but possessively, around the long slope of her neck. “There is no telling how deep the Emperor’s plot ran,” he reminded her. “Nor how deep his influence might have gone. You threw him off, Marlitharn, do not forget that.” He followed the attempt at consolation with a kiss and Marli took it gratefully, twining her legs around his, content to let him make her forget again. 

That night she dreamt of soft hands and impossibly blue eyes and woke aching with _almost_. 

* * *

“There’s tea,” Kira called through the ship a little after Marli’s alarm went off. “We should be at Rakata Prime in an hour.” 

Marli kissed Scourge and dressed for a fight. She served herself a large mug of tea, breathing in the soft scent. She smiled at Kira and took a drink. “Thanks.” 

“You alright? You look exhausted.” Kira leaned heavily on the wall nearby, her jedi composure forgotten in the early mornings and much of the time they were more or less alone. She opened her mouth to say something teasing and then closed it again, expression narrowing with concern. “Another headache or a bad dream.” 

“A dream,” Marli confessed. “Not sure I’d call it a bad one.” 

The details were already slipping away. All but the eyes. The bright, blue eyes. 

“Careful Lord Sithington doesn’t get possessive. He’ll start keeping you away at all hours to have you to himself.” 

Marli sputtered a laugh as Kira waggled her eyebrows. 

C’mon Marlitharn, you can do better.

It was a small voice, a kind voice, but it was not a voice that belonged in Marli’s thoughts. She shook her head, like an akkdog dispelling water, and took another drink. 

“Marli?” 

“I’m fine, Kira, just another… I don’t know, remnant.” 

“I thought they were getting better,” Kira frowned. “You might have to talk to Assface about it.” 

“Don’t call Doc ‘Assface’ he does a lot for this team,” Marli chided. “But there’s nothing he can do about it _anyway_. I’ll be alright, I know what it is at least. That’s a big help.” 

* * *

Rakata Prime looked like it belonged on brochures and Marli disliked it on impulse. The sand glowed in the sunlight, the palm trees waved in the breeze, the tiny blonde sith lord tapped her foot impatiently. Picturesque.

Darth Occlus had changed into practical fighting gear, rather than the regimental garb more fitting of his station that he’d been wearing on Manaan. He gave Marli a polite bob of his head and a small smile when it was returned. 

The glimmer of familiarity remained, and it made her nearly paranoid. She _must_ have known Occlus _somehow_ during her time as the Emperor’s puppet. People didn’t become Dark Councillors overnight, no matter how young the sith lord appeared. What was his role? Did he order her or condition her? Was he a puppeteer or merely another, lesser pawn. The questions made her uneasy. 

Worst of all, Occlus gave the impression of being genuinely likable. He wasn’t smarmy or smug, and his sense of humor was relaxed. If it was an act, it was a good one; she could sense no deception in it. 

“Lana and I will monitor the situation from Jakarro’s ship,” Theron told her. “That lets you and Occlus—” he stole a sidelong glance at the Darth as though expecting a reprimand for the lack of title but Occlus didn’t seem to notice “—crash the party from ground level.” 

Marli felt her stomach twist with discomfort, but nodded as though nothing was wrong. She looked at Occlus. “I look forward to working with you.” 

“It’ll be good to see you in action again.” 

Marli’s stomach twisted harder and her head started to hurt. Theron gave her a confused look. She shook her head, wondering how much he knew and hoping the answer was “nothing,” but she kind of doubted it. SIS was known for knowing things even the Jedi Order tried to keep secret. 

“We’ll be quick,” she promised Theron. 

“Wouldn’t want you to miss me,” Occlus quipped with a wink. Theron coughed and blushed a little, looking away in a hurry. 

Marli rolled her eyes but it was Lana who cleared her throat and said in a terse and unamused voice, “May we focus on the task at hand?” 

* * *

Occlus was a skilled combatant, rushing forward with a dual-saber and commanding the attention of the enemies with quick-witted insults lewd enough that Marli had a hard time remembering that he was supposed to be a dignified leader to the Empire and not some random punk. 

Combat, luckily, provided very little in the way of a chance to talk and every time Occlus seemed about to say something he appeared to think better of it. Marli had a hundred questions and the frustrating realization that _he_ could answer at least some of them, but she had no reason to trust any answer he might give. 

And if Master Orgus had thought it best to lock her memories away… maybe he was right. 

Regardless of all that, they proved an effective team, working their way up to the ruined temple where Arkous and Darok were supposed to be overseeing the final touches of their immortal army. 

Because shoving bits of the _Star Forge_ into sentients was a _sensible action_ and not at all _highly morally questionable._

They made their way up to the roof, joined by Jakarro for the final stretch, and found themselves face to face to with their enemies. 

“Persistent, aren’t you.” Arkous scoffed, his hand nonchalantly on his hip. 

“Now now,” Occlus sighed. “Just because Daddy wouldn’t like your boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to play revolution.”

Marli almost wanted to ask who “daddy” was in this scenario but also really, very much, didn’t want to know. 

“You’ve done a fair amount of damage, it’s true,” Arkous hissed in response. “But the Project’s not a total loss, after all, you’ve helpfully delivered yourselves for slaughter.” 

“Right.” Marli drew her lightsabers. “Do you want to come quietly or do I have to beat a surrender out of you.” 

“No one’s _surrendering_ , Jedi.” Darok unhooked his gun. “This is bigger than us.” 

Marli leapt at Arkous, her lightsaber brought up to deflect his lightning. 

_I’ve faced worst_ , she thought with a growl and threw the force forward to try and take his feet out from under him. Arkous kept his balance. He closed the force around her neck but she broke his hold and drove him back until he was forced to draw his lightsaber. 

Arkous blocked her blow but wasn’t quick enough to block when she lashed out with one long leg and struck him firmly in the knee. There was a crunch and Arkous crumbled unceremoniously as his right leg buckled beneath him. 

“ARKOUS!” 

“I’m your opponent, fuckwad!” Occlus shouted as Darok called for his partner. 

“Surrender,” Marli demanded. 

Arkous followed up with a blast of lightning straight to her gut. Marli convulsed and spat up blood. Her hand tightened around her right lightsaber and she swung, severing Arkous’s head from his neck as he raised his lightsaber for the killing blow. 

She wiped the blood off her chin and turned to where Occlus was pulling his lightsaber out of Darok’s chest. He gave her a small smile. “We make a good team, Marlitharn.” 

_I need your help killing a Republic general._

“We did,” Marli agreed, careful of the tense she was using because she didn’t want him to get ideas about tugging her down to the darkside. They contacted Theron and Lana from a nearby console. 

“Darok and Arkous fought to the last,” she said, one hand on her stomach. “We won’t be getting any information out of them.” 

“Copy that,” Theron said. And then as an aside added “Damn!” 

<< Why should we care what they could have said? >> Jakarro demanded. << They were weak liars. >>

“I must agree with my master,” D4 added. “They’re much more trustworthy as corpses.” 

Both Marli and Occlus opened their mouths and then thought better of it. 

Lana stepped into view, a concerned frown on her small mouth. “I sense something…” her eyes widened but her tone remained the same. “We’re in danger.” 

“Multiple sensor contacts,” Theron updated. “Capital ships are dropping out of hyperspace. No IDs, one of them’s coming in hot.” 

Marli turned, ready to draw her lightsabers again even though there was precisely fuckall she could do against a spaceship with them. 

A voice, a _familiar_ voice, boomed out over the temple. “Arkous and Darok were valuable allies in my cause. But their deaths will not delay what is coming.” 

She knew that voice. And it didn’t give her a headache the way _other_ half-memories did.

It _couldn’t_ be. 

And then it was confirmed: Revan. The legendary jedi she had rescued from the Maelstrom Prison long before any of this had begun. Theron’s Great-Grandfather. A good man, dedicated to the light side of the force.

And apparently now trying to blow them all to pieces. 

Occlus looked _indignant_ at the holo that projected from the capital ship. “You’re dead,” he said flatly. “I killed you and you were dead.” 

Marli gave Occlus a horrified look and Occlus stood his ground. “He was trying to wipe out anyone with pureblood ancestry, he’s a _fucking nut job_.” 

Marli couldn’t believe it. She turned her attention back to the massive holo of Revan’s masked face and listened as he described his legions of followers. His plans to “sweep aside all distractions” to pave the way for his true goal. 

“We need to get off this rock, _now_ ,” Occlus said under his breath. 

Marli nodded her silent, dumbstruck agreement and followed him at a run towards the shuttle. 

* * *

“That was a nasty hit, Gorgeous. Should’ve taken me along so I could have looked it over right after you finished.” Doc told her, clicking his tongue disapprovingly while he looked over the burn mark on her abdomen. 

“I’m fine, Doc,” Marli said from her back on the table. “I’ve had worse.” 

“You keep worrying me like this and ol’ Doc’ll have wrinkles.” 

“And women across the galaxy would go into mourning.” Marli rolled her eyes, knowing exactly where the womanizing physician was going with that particular sentiment.

“And men,” he defended. “Ol’ Doc is a delight to all types.” He helped her to sitting. “Pretty much the complete package, darlin’. If you ever get curious.” 

“So, can I go?” 

_I would never presume to hold you, My Lord._

“Ayup,” Doc put the instrument away. “Just take it easy for a couple of days so you don’t pull the sutures out. That means telling that sith lord to play nice.” He gave her a meaningful look. 

Marli flushed and cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Patient confidentiality,” Doc reminded her. “And take it easy.” 

* * *

Marli headed to Vaiken spacedock and found Theron’s office trashed and a cryptic message telling her to meet him on Manaan again. He and Lana both looked worn when she arrived, and before she could ask what was going on, they were joined by a concerned looking Occlus. 

“I thought—Lana you had me worried.” Occlus said with un-sithlike urgency. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine, my lord.” 

“She says, despite the death sentence over her head,” Theron quipped. He turned his attention to Marli while Occlus went wide-eyed. “It’s true. Jakarro’s got twelve different death marks—a new record for him—and I’ve been officially branded a rogue agent.”

“Makes you sound dangerous and irresistible,” Occlus volunteered. 

Theron cracked a small smile and then said, in as exasperated a tone as he could manage, “ _Anyway_.” 

_My lord, I am drawn to you, make no mistake._

“Anyway,” Marli repeated after him. “What are we going to do?” 

“ _We_ ,” Theron indicated himself and Lana, “are going to go into hiding for a bit. _You_ ,” he indicated both her and Occlus, “stay away from this. We’ll contact you if something comes up.” 

Marli didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like she had much in the way of a choice. She nodded her head in acceptance. “Theron?” 

“Yes?” 

“Force be with you.” 

His smile was soft, but genuine. “May the Force be with you too, Marlitharn.” 

“Marli,” she corrected. “All my friends just call me Marli.” 

Theron, Lana, and Jakarro left to go make plans and Marli studied her apparent new ally, at least for as long as the Revanites posed a threat. He met her eyes evenly, a great sadness apparent in the way he held his shoulders and the way the force flowed from him when she focused on it. 

Sith were open with their feelings, but Marli was more used to those feelings being anger or hatred, sometimes lust. 

It felt… lewd… to be so free with emotion. Disrespectful. 

“They’ll be alright,” she offered as means of comfort. “Lana’s brilliant, she’ll be fine.” 

Occlus gave a nod. “I know. I have great faith in her. And in Theron.” 

Marli agreed. 

“Do you…” Occlus exhaled. “Do you remember _anything_?” 

Soft hands and blue eyes, bouncing lekku and a winning smile.

“No,” Marli said, it was only mostly a lie. “Nothing.”

Occlus sighed. “Well, shit.” 

She raised a questioning eyebarb. 

He shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s… do you even _want_ to remember?” 

“No,” Marli said, only mostly lying again. “There’s a reason I don’t have those memories any longer.” She wasn’t going to admit _doubt_ to the _dark councillor_ who may well have been involved in her predicament. 

Not that she was in the habit of admitting doubt to much of anyone. But still, the point remained. 

“Force ever serve you,” Darth Occlus said before departing for his ship. 

Marli stopped herself from returning the exact same sentiment. “May the force _be with_ you as well.” 


	13. Whole Again, For All The Good It Does You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlitharn visits Rishi and recalls what she's done.

A month passed without any word from Theron. Marli resumed her life as usual, running errands for the Council and spending time with her crew. The tension would likely never truly evaporate—it had been over a year since her defeat of the Emperor and Rusk was still stiffer with his salutes, Kira checked in regularly to make sure she wasn’t having uncomfortable dreams, Doc flinched if she moved too fast—but it seemed to be easing at least. 

Scourge was a comfort, something she hoped to never admit out loud. He at least didn’t treat her like she was something fragile that might be broken at any moment. Whatever evils she had committed, he didn’t think were that bad. Which was horrifying if she thought about it, but Marli tried not to. 

She was watching Scourge and Kira spar, privately agreeing with Doc that they should have been using practice sabers, when the vision came. A pirate hub on a lush, tropical world she didn’t recognize. She shook her head to dispel the image and in doing so froze the entire room. 

“Everything alright, boss?” Kira asked, turning away from her opponent in a brazen display of trust. 

Scourge unignited his lightsaber, apparently content to let the fight die there. 

“Fine,” Marli assured everyone. “It wasn’t—I had a vision. A dock swarming with pirates on a tropical world.” 

“Rishi?” Kira guessed. 

Marli shrugged. 

“We’ve been getting a lot of spam about it, apparently it’s kind of a hub for pirate activity. I’ve just been deleting the messages but, hey,” she shrugged, “if the shoe fits.” 

“Wear it,” Marli sighed. “Yeah. Set course. Let’s get to the bottom of this.” 

“You got it.” Kira looked over her shoulder at Scourge. “I’ll kick your ass later.” 

Scourge looked unamused. “You were not winning.” 

“Hmm,” Kira hummed teasingly and left the meeting room at _almost_ an unjedi-like skip. 

* * *

Whatever Marli had been expecting, being addressed by a Rishii as the _cannibalistic_ captain of the “Dreaded Red Hulls” an apparently feared pirate gang. 

Marli was not a cannibal. She even took moral umbrage with the sith tradition of blood soup, regardless of how often Scourge mocked her for not showing any interest in her heritage. 

Marli was not a pirate. She was, in fact, a Master of the Jedi order and _frowned_ on piracy the way she frowned on all violent illegal activity. 

The Rishii, however, would not be unconvinced and this was made worse when Occlus hollered, “There you are, Captain!” over her shoulder. 

If this was his idea of a _joke_ he was going to find himself on the wrong end of her— _There is no emotion, there is peace._

She marched over and grabbed Occlus brusquely by the arm, figuring that if he was playing along with this _stupid_ whatever-it-was he would have to play along with being manhandled into a corner. 

“What. The. Void?” 

Occlus brought his hands up, palms flat and facing her. “I’m almost as confused as you are. I got some cryptic clues and then my apprentice had a vision of me being slaughtered. We landed here, I was recognized as being the dreaded first mate of some pirate crew. I figure Lana’s probably behind it.” 

Marli blinked at him. “Why do _I_ have to be the Captain?” 

Occlus stared at her. “Probably because you’re the size of a small tree.” 

Marli pursed her lips, but couldn’t argue. Of the two of them, she was the more physically imposing. 

“Well,” she huffed a sigh. “What do I _call_ you then? _Occlus_ isn’t a name.” 

“Kat.” Occlus said in a smaller voice. “My name is Katsulas, Kat for short.” He looked at her, as though hoping for something and then that hope died. It was very nearly sad to see. 

Marli looked away and nodded. “Kat, then.” She had no way of knowing if it was his real name and no reason to assume it was. “We’d better stick close together then, if we’re going to sell this—did it _have_ to be cannibals?” 

“Cannibal _pirates_ ,” he stressed the second word. “And apparently.” He frowned, creasing the line between his thick black brows. “But if it is Lana, she will have her reasons for everything and if it isn’t I would like to get to the bottom of it. As soon as possible.” 

“I agree.” She rubbed her temple. “You should… my ship _actually_ has a red hull and if people notice the captain and first mate coming and going from different ships _someone_ will ask questions.” 

“Are you asking me to stay with you?” 

“I’m… suggesting it.” She frowned. “And I would advise against trying anything. Scourge’s job was—”

“Personal executioner for the Emperor. I grew up in the Empire, I know the stories.” Kat cut her off. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to endanger this alliance.” He cleared his throat. “Is your _crew_ going to be okay with this?” 

“They’ll…” Marli stopped herself from lying. “They’ll understand. Rusk and Kira won’t like it and Doc… shit, who even knows about Doc.” 

“I’m admittedly more concerned about Lord Scourge.” 

“He’ll be fine.” 

 

* * *

Rusk and Kira did _not_ like it. Both of them launched into complaints, interrupted each other, waited for the other to start, interrupted each other again and then were cut off with one of Marli’s long red hands. 

“We really don’t have a choice about this. We need to know who lured all of us here and that means keeping to our cover.” 

“Our cover as trigger happy, cannibal pirates.” Kira cocked an eyebrow. 

“I—yes. Look, it wasn’t _my_ idea.” 

“It wasn’t mine either,” Kat interjected, standing just behind Marli and eyeing Rusk’s assault cannon with no small amount of suspicion. “Just putting that out there. I’m not a fan of pirates.” 

“Question two,” Kira had apparently elected herself the crew’s spokeswoman. “What is _he_ doing here?” 

“ _Kat_ ,” Marli used the informal nickname to try and drive home some camaraderie she didn’t feel. “Needs to be seen coming and going from the same ship if we’re going to sell the idea that we’re a pirate crew.” 

“Can I mutiny?” 

“No.” 

“Can I get a large feathered hat?” 

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

“Can I keelhaul Doc?” 

“ _Absolutely not_.” 

Doc gave Kira a hurt look before shooting Marli a smile. “Thanks Gorgeous, knew I could—”

“Please, not right now I’ve had a really strange day,” Marli pleaded, letting her shoulders droop. “I just want a cup of tea and for tomorrow to go more smoothly while Kat and I hunt down whomever is responsible for this stupid pirate cover.” 

Kira’s expression gentled and she touched Marli’s shoulder lightly. “I’ll make you a cup of tea, Boss. Maybe I’ll even be extra sweet and make one for the sith you’ve got trailing after you.” 

“You’re a gift.” Marli muttered. “Don’t spit in his.” 

“You take all the fun out of everything.” 

“We’re jedi, we’re not supposed to be _fun_.” 

Kira stuck her tongue out. 

Everyone was dismissed and Marli turned her attention to Kat. “I feel like I should apologize. Kira’s… informal. And everyone else, their suspicions are well founded.” 

Kat nodded. “No, I get it. I’d be having to make a similar speech if you were on my ship and that’s _assuming_ Andronikos wasn’t all ‘blasters first fuck the jedi’ before I could stop him.” He got a very small smile. “I like Andronikos.” 

“...noted.” 

“Not because he doesn’t like—that came out wrong. He’s just, he’s very loyal and funny and super attractive and—” 

Marli blinked at him.

“He can never know I said that.” 

Slowly, a smile clawed its way onto Marli’s mouth. She huffed a small laugh. “You know, you’re nothing like what I imagined a Dark Councillor to be like.” 

Kat beamed. 

“I _thought_ Dark Councillors were supposed to be the epitome of Imperial virtue, steeped in darkness and… whatever else. You’re… not like that at all.” 

“I’m pretty new to being on the Council,” Kat admitted. “The general opinion is that I don’t _belong_ on the Council but unless they manage to kill me they can’t really kick me off.” He shrugged, completely blaise about the prospect. “They need me.” 

Marli nodded. “I can… I’m in a similar situation with the Jedi. Without the killing. I’m much too young and inexperienced to be a Master.” 

“Is Kira your padawan?” 

“She was for about five minutes. Kira’s a knight in her own right and one of the finest women I’ve had the privilege to know.” 

“I like her. I think she’d going to try and poison me, but I like her.” 

“Kira has that effect on people.” 

* * *

That night, Marli couldn’t sleep. She kept expecting something, like a change in the hum of the engine. But the engine was still and silent while they sat in the Rishi dock. She slipped out of her sheets, careful not to disturb Scourge sleeping beside her and headed for the galley to make herself a cup of tea. 

The light in the galley was on. Marli slowed her breathing and crept closer to listen to the muffled voices. 

“So,” Kira’s tone was hushed but accusatory. “How did you know her?” 

Marli wanted to interrupt and chide her friend for behaving impolitely _and_ recklessly. Kat may act like a harmless dweeb, but he was a Dark Councillor, not someone to be trifled with. 

But Marli also wanted to listen. 

“It’s not what you think,” Kat said in a low, defeated voice. “It’s nothing _nefarious_.” 

“Banthashit.” 

“I mean it.” 

Marli crept closer to the door and peeked around to doorframe. Kira had Kat pinned against the counter, her lightsaber on her belt but easily drawn, towering over him.

“She was _kind_ to me,” Kat stressed the adjective. “She helped me with my trials on Korriban and never treated me differently because of _these_.” He pushed his hair up out of the way to give Kira a better view of the bumpy scars that marked him as a former slave. 

Kira backed up. “She was kind,” she repeated in a flat monotone. “She was kind to you.” 

“Yes.” 

From her vantage point at the door, Marli couldn’t make out Kira’s expression. 

“Thank you,” Kira said, her tone still wavering. “Sorry for the third degree.” 

“It’s fine,” Kat said. “It’s, it’s fine.” 

Marli crept back to her bedroom, thoughts of tea abandoned. She pulled the door closed behind her and wrapped her emotions close, trying to smother them. She couldn’t know if he was telling the truth. 

But she knew enough from Kira’s tone to guess that _kind_ was not the first adjective the other Jedi would have called to mind. 

_What did I do?_ Marli blinked the tears away, swiping at her eyes. 

_You were crying out for someone named Kira._

“Marlitharn?” 

“I’m fine, Scourge,” she lied. “I’m fine.” 

Scourge lowered himself back onto the mattress and, for once, Marli was grateful for his general indifference. 

* * *

It was a relief to be reunited with Theron at last. Knowing that he had been behind to decision to pass them off as pirates made her feel much better, even if she still had to question Lana’s inclusion of _cannibalistic_ pirates to help make Marli come across as particularly fearsome. 

She and Kat proved, once again, to be an effective team. They took down the Nova Blades slave camp with ease and—on Kat’s part—an almost perverse enthusiasm. 

As she was leaving the debrief however, she felt a familiar presence and heard a voice in her head that she had not heard for a long time. 

_Everything you just heard? It’s important. Remember it._

_But it can wait a little while. There’s something I want you to see._

Marli left everyone behind and followed the strange pull to a little run down building. The feeling grew as she pried open the boarding that kept the door sealed and climbed inside. 

_I grew up here, you know? And I mean_ here _, this house. Not just Rishi_

Orgus Din materialized from the Force, tall and relaxed, as he had always appeared in life. Her first friend and favorite mentor. He gave her a smile and it was one altogether too easily returned, breaking across Marli’s face like sunlight leaking from behind storm clouds. 

_Of course, I was young when the Jedi found me._

_Don’t remember much more than the walls, a blanket and a few friendly faces._

_But it seemed as good a place as any to visit one last time._

“Master Orgus!” Marli bowed her head respectfully. 

_Hello, Padawan. Got time for a final lesson from an old friend._

He called her _Padawan_ like it was a nickname and Marli was surprised to discover how much she had missed it. 

“I always have time for you, Master,” she said earnestly, grateful that she’d left the others behind and didn’t need to explain why she was speaking to thin air. “Any lesson you have to share, I’m eager to hear.” 

Orgus chuckled. 

_It’s good to see you too_. 

He set her to three tasks, little things to better like on Rishi for everyday people. Curing a fever with Doc (something Doc was ecstatic about), fixing the storm breaks with T7 ( _ **T7 = Happy to help!!**_ ), and getting Kira to help her clear out some old debris. While Kira headed back to the ship to shower and babysit Rusk and the Sith lord, Marli headed back to Orgus’s old house, feeling _at peace_ for what felt like the first time since Tol Braga’s vision. 

_How are you feeling?_

“Better,” Marli said with a nod. “At peace.” 

_Good._

_What we did here today—I lied. It wasn’t just about helping Rishi._

Marli stared at the apparition, a cold feeling sinking into her gut. She forced her shoulders to remain square, her back straight. She said she was eager for his lesson and she meant it. Lessons weren’t always pleasant or straightforward. 

_It was about healing an old scar, one that still aches inside you._

“My memories.” 

_When we freed you, you pushed the memories of his training down deep._

_I can bring those memories back. You’re strong enough to handle them now._

Marli took a deep breath. Terror coiled in her bloodstream and the thought of remembering, facing, the monster she had become. She let go of the breath and nodded. “I’m ready to face them.” 

An enemy she couldn’t beat with her lightsabers. 

_Fear only leads to hate, Marli. Today, you felt love._

_Take a breath, Marlitharn, this is going to hurt._

She felt Orgus press against her thoughts and then a pain like she had never experienced. Marli’s knees buckled under her as she fought not to scream. Orgus ripped into her psyche, prying loose memories she had locked away. Marli clutched either side of her head as though she could make it stop somehow. 

And then it stopped. She gasped and heaved for air, looking up at Master Orgus through the haze of pained tears. A ghostly hand touched her cheek, smoothing under the eye to chase the tears away. 

_You’re whole._

“I’m whole.” She curled her arms around her middle. 

And she wept. 


	14. Lingering Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marli reflects on who she had been under her tenure as a sith lord.

Marli sat for a long time in the darkness that was Master Orgus’s childhood home, trying to sort through her memories. So much had happened that she had forgotten. Being sent to Dromund Kaas and then abruptly heading to Korriban for the trials. Meeting Katsulas for the first time when they sent her to the tombs. Meeting Vette. 

Meeting… Vette. 

Marli’s eyes went wide. The last time she’d seen Vette, Scourge had been choking the life out of her. 

Everything else could wait. 

Marli headed back to _The Defender_ as quickly as she could. She burst into the training room and with a wave of her hands jerked the weapons away from both Kira and Scourge, staring at the sith lord with wide, manic yellow eyes. 

“Did you kill Vette?” she asked bluntly. 

Scourge studied her dispassionately. He folded his arms over his chest and said simply, “no.” 

Marli let the weapons drop to the ground and slumped against the wall as the adrenaline that had carried her seeped out of her legs like blood leaving an open wound. 

Kira moved to her side slowly, cautious and careful enough that Marli wanted to scream that she was still herself. “When did you remember?” Kira asked. 

“A little while ago. Master Orgus manifested and… freed me.” It was a poor description but it was all she had. She swallowed and looked up at Kira. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Kira.” Her voice began to shake. “H-how did you st-stand to follow me? After what I did?” 

Kira’s hands hovered over her shoulders before alighting atop them. “It wasn’t _you_ ,” Kira insisted. “It was the Emperor, Marli. It wasn’t you.” 

But how _much_ of it was the Emperor? 

“It’s not, it wasn’t just that. Kira, _I_ started the war.” Marli’s hands shook until she curled them around her biceps and dug her nails in to steady them. “On Taris, the—the war trust. I killed them.” 

Kira’s eyes went wide. “It still wasn’t you.” 

“It… the Emperor’s control was subtle. I thought I was—I _was_ Sith.” Marli stared at her knees. “Pak’s vision was true, Kira. I became _Sith_.” 

Scourge frowned as if to say there were worse things than being Sith, but what else could be expected from a three-hundred and some year old champion of the darkside. 

Marli swallowed. “When he gets back, would someone let Katsulas know I need to speak with him. I, I owe him an apology.” 

Kira raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Please, Kira?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Are you going to be alright?” 

Marli forced herself to nod even though she had never felt less like she was going to be “alright” in her entire life. 

She left the training room on shaky legs and made it to her bedroom before flopping face first onto her mattress. Distressingly, not all of the memories were bad ones. There had been laughter and companionship in amongst the endless slaughter she had supplied to fuel Baras’s plans. 

_Quinn_. 

Marli touched her lips and remembered how it had felt to _be passionate_. To want something that wasn’t terrible for her or actively dangerous. She loved Scourge but, _Stars_ , she might have loved and _been loved_ by Malavai Quinn. 

She’d never know now. Even if she could think of a way to find him and Vette again, she couldn’t very well contact an Imperial vessel to “catch up” while there was a war on. 

And how could he see her return to the Order as anything but treasonous?

Marli had cried more in a few short hours than she could remember ever crying in her life, but she promised herself she wouldn’t cry over the possibility of lost love. She was a jedi, and while she wasn’t a very _good_ jedi in a lot of cases, she remained one in principle. 

She pulled herself to sitting and folded into her meditative pose, meditating while she waited for Kat to get back from whatever errand he was running. 

* * *

“Kira said you wanted to speak with me?” Kat said from just outside the bedroom door. Calmer, Marli waved the entrance open and looked on the face of her _friend_ for the first time since Baras had sent her to Taris. Her attempt at a neutral smile fell short and watery. “I wanted to apologize for the suspicion I’ve been treating you with. You,” she exhaled through her nose. “You deserve an explanation.” 

Kat listened in wide-eyed silence as Marli described Tol Braga’s plan to capture the Emperor and how it all went wrong. She described waking up, not knowing who she was, and being given to Scourge for training. 

“But how did you end up on Korriban?” 

“I was at the Dromund Kaas Academy briefly,” Marli folded her hands in her lap. “An overseer saw an opportunity, not knowing that I wasn’t really a student.”

“That… explains a lot. Your skill level was way higher than everyone else's.” 

“I wasn’t a padawan,” Marli shrugged. “I was a full fledged Knight by that point, I’d already killed a Dark Council member.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Kat stared at her. “You killed Darth Angral.” 

Marli tensed as if expecting a fight but Kat shook his head. “You were a ghost story in the slave pits. A padawan who took out a Darth in a fair fight.” 

“Kira was there too. It wasn’t _just_ me.” 

“But still. Terrifying.” 

She made a note not to tell him her _other_ big accomplishment if she could avoid it.

Kat hooked his fingers together in front of him and leaned against the wall beside her door. “I know what happened to Captain Quinn and Vette,” he said without prompting.

Marli’s mouth dropped open with surprise. 

“They were transferred to another of Baras’s apprentices after your… death.” Kat rubbed the back of his neck. “The new Wrath.” 

Marli’s chest seized with terror. Vette had so much to lose. Quinn would probably be fine but Vette… they’d slap that collar back on her and this time she might _break_.

“It’s fine,” Kat held up his palms. “I’ve met him. He’s kind and he’ll take care of them. I just thought you might want to know.” 

She remembered how to breathe.

She could _find them_ again. Marli’s heart ached. She could find Vette and Quinn and explain… explain _what_ exactly? That they person they’d known had been partially a fabrication on the part of the Emperor. That she was actually one of the Empire’s greatest enemies? That she had _killed_ the Emperor? 

“Are we friends again, Marlitharn?” 

“Marli,” she corrected. “And I hope so.”

She needed distance again. Space to think. 

* * *

She made her apologies to Doc in the evening, leaning against the wall while he assured her that all was forgiven. “Kira got the worst of it, beautiful,” he assured her. “You weren’t yourself.” 

And the memories of the torture sessions were still fuzzy, she could feel the Emperor’s fingerprints smearing all over them like an over enthusiastic youngling with their first datapad. Maybe it hadn’t been her torturing her companions. 

But _she_ had started the war. 

_She_ had ordered Pierce to slaughter Moff Masken’s men. 

_She_ had… she had struck down Master Till’in when he arrived to rescue her. The master who had first taken her to Tython, who had been kind to her as a child. 

She, and not the Emperor, had killed him. 

And there was no chance to make that right. 

* * *

Marli threw herself into the hunt for the Revanites. When Theron was kidnapped she let concern for his wellbeing lap away the disgust that simmered in her stomach. In contrast, Kat’s mood was much improved now that the friendship had been reconfirmed. He was Sith, deriving power from his emotions, and it made him terrifying and comforting all at once.

She gave Theron and Kat a moment as the ships prepared to leave for Yavin IV, choosing instead to follow after Grandmaster Shan and secure a private audience. In the Grandmaster’s quarters on her capital ship, Marli sank to her knees and begged forgiveness, laying out every sin she had committed while under the Emperor’s control, starting with the death of Master Till’in. 

Grandmaster Satele’s pretty painted mouth pulled into a frown as she knelt across from Marli. 

“And now?” she asked. Not looking particularly surprised, leaving Marli wondering how much she had already known. About Till’in certainly but—

Of course the Grandmaster knew about the War Trust. Marli hadn’t been careful about being seen because she’d had no reason to. She had been sent to strike fear into the heart of the Republic. 

And she’d done it. 

“I am myself,” Marli answered definitively. “But, Master, I was largely myself for much of my… imprisonment. I didn’t know who I was or what—I fell, Master.” 

“And recovered,” Grandmaster Satele reminded her. “We will watch you, Marlitharn, but the Council has placed much of its faith in you, we know you won’t let us down.” 

Marli bowed her head. “Thank you, Grandmaster.” 

She returned to her ship feeling marginally better. The Council knew, at least, what had happened. They chose to trust her regardless, she just had to live _up_ to that trust. 

Which _probably_ meant stop giving into her passions with Scourge, which she should probably do _anyway_ because he was _terrible_ , but she… she wasn’t going to do that. 

Maybe there was more sith in her than she wanted to admit. 

And she did not intend that pun. Kira would mock her for a week if she knew. 

“How’d it go?” Kira asked, leaning nonchalantly in the doorframe. “Do I get to be in charge now?” 

Marli smiled and rolled her eyes. “Nothing has changed. I was… less than subtle while under the Emperor’s Thrall, the Council was already aware of my actions.” 

It was a miracle she hadn’t been brought under a military tribunal. 

“Set course for Yavin IV,” Marli instructed. “We have to stop Revan.”

* * *

On the flight to Yavin IV, Marli reviewed the records on Darth/Master Revan. The more she read the deeper of a kinship she felt, something she hadn’t had before when she’d rescued Revan from the Maelstrom prison. 

Revan had been Jedi then Sith then Jedi again. She wondered if he’d loved while he was Darth Revan. If he’d made friends and missed them after he was “himself” again. She wondered how much of any of that remained now that he was trying to wake up the Emperor. 

“He was a great man,” Scourge said from the doorway. “Unparalleled.” 

Marli flicked her eyes up to him. “The color of your first love’s eyes?” 

“They were yellow. Revan was not my first love.” Scourge entered the room. “What I don’t understand is why you continue to torment yourself over what happened. You served, as you serve now.”

“But I served _The Empire_.” 

“You served what you believed to be your home. You fought those you believed to be your enemies. The main difference is that you _embraced_ your emotions, Marlitharn, rather than allow an outside force to suppress them.” 

She got distinct impression that he would prefer her if she were like that _now_. 

But where was her defense? She had killed more people for the Republic than she ever had for the Empire and felt no guilt over it. 

Scourge was right. And she _hated_ when he was right. 

Sensing her conflict, Scourge settled on the bed beside her. He took her jaw in his hand and tilted it up to meet his mouth. 

And Marli let herself be distracted. 

* * *

They landed and she met Kat before heading to the conference table that had been set aside to lead this coalition. 

“You look… better,” Kat offered. “More at peace, I guess?” 

Marli nodded. “I feel better.” She reached up to adjust her ponytail. “Besides, it’s not like stewing on things would go me any good at the moment. Not while Revan’s in the middle of this mad plan of his.” 

Kat gave an enthusiastic nod and she cracked a smile for him. 

Tensions between the Republic and Imperial forces were strained, but with her and Katsulas working together they were far from insurmountable. Marli found peace in the work and in conversation with Theron. She blocked out the ghosts as best she could and tried to ignore the way the darkside bubbled up from beneath her very feet to try and hook into her spirit. 

To long on this planet and they’d all go mad. 

The discovery of Revan’s ghost raised more questions than answers, but Marli took a small amount of personal comfort in seeing that the ghost was _Master_ Revan. 

Personal comfort that lasted until the fight with _Darth_ Revan and the realization that flipping between the two extremes of the Force had broken Revan neatly in half. If the greatest of Jedi, the greatest of Sith, couldn’t survive the process and keep his mind intact, what chance did _she_ have?

Marli shuddered as the body went limp and hoped that no one noticed. Kat set a comforting hand on her shoulder that, while appreciated, was quickly shrugged off so no one else would notice. 

Her attention was snapped up as Vitiate’s energy was released, spiraling into the Yavin sky, cackling and mocking them as it went. 

She was horrified, yes. 

But mostly, Marli was just tired. 


	15. Lord Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marli is reunited with Vette after all this time.

Much had happened since Yavin IV. Marli had watched the Emperor swallow Ziost in a Force Ritual, she had hounded him into wild space. She’d been frozen for five years and when she woke up things were different. 

And Vitiate was in her head again.

Kat had been with Lana when Marli had been recovered. She felt strangely about being rescued by _two_ sith and pushed it aside in favor of feeling that she had been rescued by two _friends_. 

It was frightening, coming out of that sleep. For half a moment her thoughts seized on the last time she’d come out of a deep, artificial rest and screamed to know what she had done _this time_. 

She can’t have done anything, she had been sealed away safely where she couldn’t hurt anyone. 

But Valkorion— _Vitiate_ —lingered in her thoughts, occupying space that wasn’t for him. He spoke to her like he was a fond—if exasperated—parent and it made her want to vomit. He teased her about her trauma and her doubt. 

But there was nothing she could do about it beyond stabbing her lightsaber through her brain and she _refused_ to let him be the death of her. It seemed like the sort of thing he would _want_. Or maybe he was affecting indifference to keep her from destroying herself and therefore him. 

She didn’t know. 

On Odessen she distracted herself from the aching loneliness with work. She had Kat and Theron but Scourge, Kira, Doc and Rusk were all missing. Who knew if they were even still alive? In the dark hours, her thoughts touched on Vette and Quinn, also absent but lost much earlier. Even if she found them again, there was no guarantee they’d forgive her for what had happened. She just hoped they were out of harm’s way. 

“Marli?” Kat knocked on the side of her open door before letting himself into the room. “We’ve got a new recruit you’re going to want to meet.” He looked apprehensive.

Marli unfurled from her meditative pose, not that she’d been doing a good job of meditating, and pulled on her boots to follow him out into the greater base. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Kat said quickly. “Nothing is _wrong_ per se, just, you’re going to want to meet this guy.” 

“Who is he?” 

“Darth Ashlan, Wrath of the Empire.” Kat shifted his weight uncomfortably as he punched in the door code that lead to the war room. “You remember when I said that Quinn and Vette had been transferred to Darth Baras’s _other_ apprentice?” 

Marli’s heart almost stopped. 

“He’s a good guy,” Kat assured her. “You’ll like him. I just wanted you to have a chance to, well, brace.” 

“I appreciate it,” Marli said, her knees feeling weak and rubbery. 

After all this time she might get answers. 

She thought about Kira, who would tease her for her hesitance and quietly worry about Marli’s fixation on the things that had happened while she was under the Emperor’s thrall. 

_It wasn’t all_ my _doing,_ Valkorion— _Vitiate,_ he didn’t get to call himself something new and pretend it had never happened—teased within her thoughts. _You must take some of the credit for your actions. Not everything you did in service to The Empire was evil. I thought Jedi didn’t deal in absolutes._

Marli blocked him out. Eventually she’d figure out how to be rid of him forever. 

The door opened and she took stock of the newcomer, a tall zabrak with republic markings and bright red hair done up in a short ponytail. She recognized him from Balmorra and Dromund Kaas. His robes were red and purple, rather than black, and his posture was utterly relaxed while he spoke evenly to Lana and Theron. 

“There she is now,” Theron gestured to Marli with his chin. “Commander, meet Ashlan Lews, formerly the Wrath of the Emperor.” 

“Em _pire_ ,” Ashlan corrected with an easy shrug. He turned to face Marli and gave her a shallow bow, if he recognized her at all he didn’t show it. “Pleased to meet you.” 

Marli bit back the flood of questions by literally biting her tongue lightly. She took a breath. “I’ve been told you already know Katsulas,” she indicated the small man to her left with her hand. 

“Kat and I go _way_ back.” Ashlan winked and Kat chuckled. 

Marli decided she didn’t really want to know. 

She wanted to ask about Quinn and Vette but couldn’t figure out how to broach the subject. She exhaled again and let her shoulders relax. “We’ll find you a bunk, welcome to the Alliance.” 

“Thank you. I’ve asked Lana and Theron to keep an eye out for some of my old crew as well. They’d be a big help and I… worry about them.” 

“I know how that is,” Marli fought the urge to press. “I’ve lost people myself.” 

“The common condition. Fuck this war.” Ashlan folded his arms over his chest. “We’ll find them, I’m sure of it.” 

Marli nodded, wishing she were as certain. 

* * *

Weeks passed without Marli being certain how to ask Ashlan about Vette or Quinn. He was a perversely cheerful person, given to brightening whatever room he was in. He was laid back enough that she had a hard time picturing serious, professional Quinn settling in to work for him with any ease. 

Vette would have been fine. 

As she got to know him, Marli was more and more comfortable with the thought that Ashlan would have protected Vette from the Empire. Given how Ashlan spoke of her on the rare occasions he did, Marli could assume that they’d been friends. Close friends. 

And that knowledge just made it harder for Marli to ask after Vette because _now_ she’d be dredging up unhappy feelings for Ashlan who clearly missed his friend immensely. 

Kat kept waiting for her to say something, clearly itching to say something himself but respectful of the pace Marli was setting. Marli kept biting her own tongue to keep the questions from pouring out unprofessionally and in her darker moments reminded herself that it didn’t matter. 

It was enough that Vette and Quinn were looked after. 

With luck they had both forgotten about her and the strangeness that surrounded her actions while under thrall. 

The strange headaches, the inconsistent behavior. 

At least they’d been given to a Sith who was whole, and who seemed to balance out the code with a moral compass that pointed north. 

Kat slid into her meditation chamber with a smile. “Hylo’s made contact with a man who wants to rob Zakuul blind.” 

Marli raised an eyebarb. 

“Mind if I field this one instead?” Kat asked. “I’m sneakier than you are.” 

He was, it was true. Kat was _notably_ sneakier than Marli was. 

But then, most things were sneakier than Marli.

“Let me see the report first but probably,” Marli unfolded from her meditative pose and stood up to stretch. “I’m not sure the Alliance should be planning a heist.” 

‘The Alliance needs resources,” Kat pointed out. “And lots of them.” 

Marli frowned. He wasn’t _wrong_. They did need the resources if they were going to continue to _exist_ much less beat back Arcann’s reign of terror. She let her shoulders slump with surrender. “Fine.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Kat assured her. “And you don’t have to go.” 

“I’ll decide _not_ to be offended by the implication that I would somehow fuck it up,” Marli said dryly, rolling her eyes. 

Kat chuckled a little. 

* * *

Ashlan joined her on the landing pad, waiting for the shuttle carrying everyone to return to Odessen. He bounced on the balls of his feet as the the shuttle broke atmo, sharp teeth raking over his lower lip as he inhaled sharply. 

Marli wanted to ask what was up. He wasn’t acting like something was _wrong_ , he was just suddenly excited. It was kind of catching, actually. There was a surprise coming and Ashlan could sense and was excited for it. A smile broke over her mouth and she shook her head slightly. 

The shuttle landed and the doors opened. Ashlan bolted up the ramp before anyone could make it down, whooping excitedly. 

“Vette!” he hollered. 

Marli’s heart stopped beating. 

“What! You’re! Eeee!” Vette’s squeal was high-pitched and then cut off as she muffled it into Ashlan’s chest. “I thought you were dead!” 

Marli watched, stuned to stillness, as Ashlan scooped Vette into the air and held her aloft. 

“There are so many things I have to tell you!” he declared, setting her down. “Where have you _been_?” 

Marli couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure if she should walk up and re-introduce herself or if she should bolt. The war between the two left her statuesque and staring. She was still staring as Ashlan and Vette made their way down the ramp with the rest of the crew. 

This time, Vette froze, causing Kat to walk straight into her. 

“Marlitharn?” Vette asked slowly. 

Marli nodded. “Just—just Marli please.” 

Vette walked the rest of the way off the ramp and came to standing in front of her, eyes roaming over Marli’s face with unveiled disbelief. “I thought that big sith lord killed you.” 

“It was… complicated,” Marli said weakly. “I was never supposed to have been transferred from the Dromund Kaas Academy.” She cleared her throat. “I’m uh, I’ve always been a Jedi.” 

Vette looked unconvinced and unamused.

“When we met I was enthralled by the Emperor. It’s, like I said, complicated. I’m just… I’m just glad you’re alive.” 

Vette swallowed and blinked, moisture forming in her eyes. “ _You’re_ just glad _I’m_ alive? You were hauled off by the fricking Wrath of the Emperor. The bad one! I thought you were dead.” She frowned then. “Why didn’t you look for me?” 

“I… didn’t know for a long time. I didn’t remember any of it.” 

“You forgot about me?” 

Marli gave a hesitant nod of her head and felt the ground fall away from her. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Did you forget about Quinn?” Vette asked carefully, watching her face. 

Marli nodded again, feeling her heart break. “I forgot _everything_. And then I got frozen for five years.” 

Vette considered this and then punched Marli lightly in the arm. “We’ve got catching up to do then.” 

Marli deflated with relief. “I’m looking forward to it. But I’ll let you catch up with Ashlan first, seems like you two really missed each other.” 

Vette looked over to where Ashlan was waiting, the expression on his face reading that he’d put two and two together and now realized who Marli _was_. He waved a little and Vette laughed. “He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.” 

Marli grinned. “I’m happy for you.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you know where—”

“I took off right after Ashlan went missing,” Vette explained. “I have no idea what happened to Quinn.” She folded her arms over her chest to demonstrate that she didn’t particularly _care_ either. “Ashlan won’t have any idea either probably, we thought he was dead.” 

“There’s a lot of that going around.” 

“Yeah well when a terrifying God Emperor decides to invade I guess people get lost,” Vette said it flippantly but her expression was sad. “It’s good to have you back though.” 

“Thanks Vette, it’s good to _be_ back.” 

* * *

Vette settled pretty quickly into the role of “Morale Officer,” a title Marli was mostly certain she had just made up. Any fear Marli might have held about things being weird between them was dissipated fairly quickly when Vette flopped onto the seat beside her and demanded a complete run-down of her activities since leaving _the Fury_. It was a report Marli gave in stops and bursts, expressing her worry for her crew and her mistake of a relationship with Scourge. 

“Seesh,” Vette huffed. “Have you _ever_ had good taste in men?” 

Marli laughed despite herself. “Quinn wasn’t that bad and nothing ever happened there anyway.” 

“Came close enough that he pined when you were gone.” Vette shrugged her shoulders. “He tried to hide it because _Quinn_ but it was there.” Her expression softened. “I think he really missed you.” 

Marli looked down at the floor. “I miss _him_.” 

“You can do better.” 

“Statistically speaking,” Marli offered a wry smile she didn’t quite feel. “I really can’t.” 

Vette laughed. 

“So tell me about Ashlan,” Marli sat a little straighter and turned her chest so she was given Vette her full attention. It made her miss Kira, but having Vette back was nice. 

Having another _friend_ was nice. 

“Ashlan’s… great,” Vette said, her teeth scraping over her lower lip as she tried to bite back a smile. “He’s the best friend I could ever have asked for.” 

“Tell me everything.” 

Vette gushed for an hour, Marli listening intently. Marli laughed when Vette became flustered, hands petting over her lekku as she talked. 

“Have you told _him_?” Marli asked, eyes bright. 

Vette rolled her eyes. “If he hasn’t noticed he’s an _idiot_.” 

Marli, who had met Ashlan, agreed that that was probably true. Ashlan was a lot of things, but didn’t come across as particularly observant. 

“Besides,” Vette gave a very dramatic sigh. “He has feelings for someone _else_.” 

“Jaesa?” Marli summoned the name from the earlier part of their conversation, a jedi padawan Ashlan had sort of rescued sort of kidnapped. She didn’t really get the details. But given her history, Marli was the last person to deride someone else’s story for being complicated or not making sense. 

“You still ought to tell him,” Marli said, folding her arms over her chest. “It might surprise you.” 

“Totally not worth it,” Vette laughed. She smiled at Marli, sincere and affectionate. “It’s nice having someone to talk to about it though.” 

“We’re friends, Vette. It’s what friends do I guess.” 

“You _guess_ ,” Vette teased. 

“I’ve been a jedi and a sith, Vette, neither group really does _friends_.” Marli pointed out as a means of defending herself. 

“That’s pretty sad.” Vette frowned. 

Marli shrugged. “Well it’s not the case any longer, it just means I’ll need people to patient with me while I figure things out.” 

“Roger that.” Vette knocked her head into Marli’s shoulder. “It really is nice having you back.” 


	16. Hopeful Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marli visits the machine world of Iokath

With Valkorion defeated—for real this time—the Alliance turned to its new goal: establishing a lasting peace in the Galaxy. It _felt_ impossible, but Marli focused on the knowledge that even if it could never be done, _trying_ was the right thing. And she had people supporting her who _also_ wanted a lasting peace. 

She had also mostly stopped the Zakuulians from calling her “Empress” out of habit and that was nice. 

She still got the nightmares, the lingering mad fear that Valkorion was still in her, biding his time, waiting. She could still feel the traces of influence, from Zakuul and from Dromund Kaas, smeared over her darker urges and base desires. She would never be free of him. 

But she was free enough, for now. Free enough to pretend at any rate. 

She missed Kira, Doc and Scourge, but Rusk had been found. They hadn’t had much to say to one another—Rusk wasn’t a chatty man—but it was _good_ having him back. She could only hope that he felt similarly. They were not and would never be _friends_ , but knowing that he was in one piece and armed and operational set her mind a little more at ease. The closest Vette had come to a compliment about him was “well his assault cannon sure is shiny” and Marli had called upon every ounce of her jedi training to not snort soup out her nose. 

Between Vette and Kat (with some help from Ashlan) Marli’s sense of humor had been greatly improved. She still didn’t crack jokes, but she had a harder time pretending things weren’t funny, something she was certain was going to get her and the rest of the Alliance into trouble. 

Neither Kat nor Vette seemed the littlest bit concerned about that. It was good though. It was… nice. 

She’d half worried that Vette would treat her delicately after learning what had happened, the way Kira and Doc had, but Vette was herself about things: kind but not inclined to tread softly. Maybe it helped that Marli hadn’t _tortured_ Vette and had, instead, released her from slavery. Maybe it was simply how Vette was.

Once he’d figured out who Marli was, Ashlan had become even friendlier, as if that had been possible. He went out of his way to include her in whatever little morale raising schemes he and Vette cooked up. He seemed mostly oblivious to Vette’s feelings, something Marli considered a pity as they were _clearly_ returned. 

They’d work it out eventually. It wasn’t really her place or her style to meddle. 

Kat was probably going to interfere anyway. It was what he _did_. 

In more pressing concerns, the Alliance had renewed interest in the machine world of Iokath. Information had come through that Iokath was home to a superweapon and, as such, The Alliance couldn’t afford to just ignore it. 

What that meant in the immediate was a lot of waiting around while Lana did some scouting. Lana had insisted on going because she hadn’t had a piece of the action in some time and had finally put her foot down. 

Marli was dealing with a minor complaint when Theron entered the new and improved war room with Lana’s latest update and a request for aid from Zakuul. 

The request was the least they could do after Marli had inadvertently collapsed the power structure the citizenship had relied on for centuries without really having an idea of what to put up in its place. 

The update from Lana started out fairly basic and then cut out abruptly as she came under fire. 

Marli paced while Theron tried to get the connection back. When Lana reappeared she looked more annoyed than injured. 

“Are you alright?” Marli asked immediately, snapping up to attention and surveying the miniature Lana carefully. 

“I’m fine,” Lana assured her. “But the situation requires your immediate intervention, Commander.” 

“What is it?” 

“Both the Empire and the Republic are moving on the Superweapon,” Lana said crossly. “If I might suggest—”

“I’ll grab Ashlan on my way to the shuttle,” Marli promised. “He’s still got some clout with the Empire and Kat can run things here while I’m gone.” 

“Very good. I’ll see you soon.” 

* * *

Ashlan strolled alongside her all the way from the shuttle to the command center Lana had set up equi-distance from the superweapon, the Empire, and the Republic. He sighed. “You’d think they’d have waited a little longer before trying to blow each other up.” 

“One would have hoped, anyway,” Marli agreed under her breath. She nodded at the saluting soldiers. “Particularly considering our _alliance_ with Acina. This is Alliance territory.” 

“Surprise, surprise, the Sith Empire is still the Sith Empire.”

“Is that bitterness?” Marli gave him a surprised look. “I didn’t think you were capable of being _bitter_.” 

“The woman I—er, my best friend, was a slave.” Ashlan cleared his throat. “And I spent years trying to change things from the inside and never fucking got anywhere. I’m entitled to a little bit of bitterness.” 

“Fair enough.” Marli was a little surprised at his vehemence; Ashlan usually had a pretty clean mouth. 

Lana was waiting for them and she even had a smile to show for it. A smile and company. “Commander, Lord Wrath.”

“Just Ashlan,” Ashlan corrected lazily. “Who’s your— _Quinn_?” 

Marli’s eyes widened just a hair as the man came away from the window. He looked at her and then let his gaze transfer seamlessly to Ashlan. Tall with strong shoulders and a flattering jawline, eyes like some tarisan jewel. Marli bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. 

“Quinn!” Ashlan exclaimed a second time. 

“My Lord, you’re looking as potent as ever.” 

Malavai had gotten a little older, a little rougher, but his voice was still as smooth as polished stone. Marli forced herself not to stare at him, focusing instead on the republic commando that had walked over _with_ him. 

“Quinn I thought you were—”

“Perhaps we might save the reunion for later, my lord.” Quinn said stiffly and Marli forced herself not to look back at him. “I’ve got a message for you from Empress Acina.” 

“And is there a reason you’re ignoring Marli?” 

“Yes, my lord.” 

Ashlan snorted. 

Marli tried not to wilt, reminding herself that this wasn’t unexpected. It felt like a sucking void in the pit of her stomach, the butterflies from seeing him transmuting seamlessly into rocks. Quinn had every right to be furious with her after everything that had happened. 

“I’m got a message for you from Supreme Commander Malcom,” the republic commando said in a strong imperial accent, her chin held high. “Captain Elara Dorne.” 

Marli nodded almost absently. “Let’s hear them both.” She bit the inside of her cheek and used the pain to ground her, just like Scourge had taught her. 

She could worry about Quinn later or never.

With her gaze fixed on Malcom and Acina, Marli tried not to be surprised that they were both after the superweapon and both chomping at the bit to polish each other off. It was stupid. It was petty. It was _childish_. It begged the question of how they’d gotten the information in the first place. 

The small room was filled with expectations. Quinn and Lana and Acina expected her to honor her alliance with the Empire even after the Empire had broken it. Malcom and Dorne and Theron expected her to defend the Republic like she always had. 

Marli wanted to knock heads together on both sides of the party line. 

But she _knew_ the Republic, and Ashlan knew the Empire. 

So she looked to him for the tiebreaker and he just gave her a small nod. Marli exhaled and looked back up at Malcom and Acina. “We will assist the Republic.” 

“Predictable,” Acina scoffed. “You have your orders Major.” 

“Apologies, my lord!” Quinn produced a grenade and lobbed it towards Marli and Ashlan, both of whom dodged to the side, taking the non-force sensitive Dorne and Theron with them into cover, just barely missing the explosion. 

“Not _again_ ,” Ashlan groaned, picking himself up and offering Dorne a hand up. “Anyone see where he went?” 

There was a collection of shaking heads. 

“Try not to kill him when you find him,” Ashlan huffed, sounding more tired and resigned than angry. “I want to talk to him first.” 

Marli was grateful for Ashlan’s assertion, but couldn’t very well admit to anything. It still stung that Quinn wouldn’t look at her. 

“He was nuts about you,” Ashlan pointed out. “Just to get that out of the way. He never mentioned you unless I pressed, that’s how I know.” 

“Comforting,” Marli drawled, entirely unconvinced. “It doesn’t matter _now_ anyway.” She popped her shoulders. “Lana, you and Dorne stay here in case the Empire tries anything. Theron, Ashlan and I will rendezvous with Supreme Commander Malcom.” She looked at Lana. “This isn’t going to be a _problem_ , is it?” 

“I’m with you, Commander.” 

“Good.” 

* * *

Marli tuned out the father-son bickering that accompanied Theron and Jace Malcom like background music. Ashlan seemed happier than anyone else, and Marli wondered if that was just because he was a naturally happier person or if he was relieved to be free of the Empire for real. 

She couldn’t very well ask in the middle of all this. At least things were straightforward: plow through the Imperial forces to get to the superweapon before Acina. Marli headed one way and Ashlan headed another and by their powers combined the Empire was, honestly, a little bit screwed. 

Marli fought her way to the central control to take control of the weapon for the Alliance and stumbled straight into a trap. Lightning zig-zagged through her teeth as pain shot through her limbs, keeping her anchored to the throne. 

When she woke up she was lying on a bed. Marli groaned and pushed herself to sitting, waving off the concerned hands that touched her shoulders to help her. “Ow.” 

“You were talking in your sleep,” Theron said, his mouth a thin, worried line. 

_You were calling out for someone named Kira_

“Was I?” Marli swallowed the bad feeling. “Anything… uh… interesting?” 

“Something about a traitor,” Theron’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And given everything _else_ going on, Lana and I are going to look into it immediately.” 

“Good,” Marli nodded and rubbed her biceps, remembering the lightning. “Is Ashlan—?”

“Major Quinn turned himself in while you were unconscious, I believe Ashlan’s talking to him now,” Lana informed her. “He mentioned that you might have a few words for the major yourself.” 

Marli tensed. Some of those words should probably be about the grenade that Quinn had tossed at her but all of them were instead related to events many years in the past.

A lifetime ago. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, feeling very juvenile. “I do.” 

She slid off the bed and padded towards the common room of the headquarters, spotting Ashlan and Quinn with more ease than she wanted to admit. They were standing by the window, speaking in low but not hushed tones until she cleared her throat and they turned. 

“That’s my cue.” Ashlan gave Quinn a wide grin that was sharp at the corners. “Do _not_ fuck this up.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Quinn actually rolled his eyes a little before his posture tightened back up. 

Ashlan left and Quinn went back to looking out the window, Marli standing near him with her arms folded awkwardly behind her back. Despite herself, there was a glimmer of relief in just seeing him whole. 

“So…” she swallowed. “I’m a jedi.” 

“I know.” Quinn kept staring out the window. “I wrote the psychological profile on you for Emp—for Acina.” 

“Ah.” Marli nodded and looked away. “I… look… I would have looked for you but I didn’t…” she huffed and tightened her ponytail. “I didn’t _remember_ anything for a very long time.” 

“I know,” Quinn said more softly this time. “Sith Intelligence had an extensive file on you that I was able to pull from.” 

“That’s _comforting_ ,” Marli muttered. In the reflection she saw the corner of Quinn’s mouth twitch and it made her smile a little bit. “I missed you,” she admitted in a small voice. “Once I remembered, I… I’ve thought about you and Vette a lot.” 

Quinn deflated a little. He met her eyes in the reflection and turned slowly to face her. “I tried to find you, when the Lord Wrath took you away.” 

It was Marli’s turn to look out the window, she swallowed. “Ashlan… implied.” 

“I thought you were dead until Acina had me compile the profile. I had mourned and moved on.” He sounded a touch angry about it. And that was fair and reasonable after everything. 

She’d be angry too, wouldn’t she? 

Quinn exhaled. “I’ve turned myself in to the Alliance for the attack on your life. I’m well-acquainted with prison at this point, I trust that’s satis—”

“Ashlan’ll vouch for you,” Marli interrupted. “And _one_ grenade doesn’t really qualify as an _attempt on my life_ if you actually complied my psych profile.” She waved away the concern. “If Ashlan’s convinced of your loyalty to the Alliance, that’s all I need.” 

At the mention of _Ashlan_ , Quinn straightened again. “I missed you.” 

Marli nearly got whiplash and then remembered that Ashlan had told Quinn to “not fuck it up.” She offered a thin smile. “I’m not looking for a patch up, Quinn. I’m just glad to see you’re alive.” 

Quinn’s expression fell. “Of course my lo—Master Marlitharn. I wouldn’t presume to—”

“Not that a patch up wouldn’t be great,” she interrupted again holding both hands in front of her. “I just, I don’t expect. It was years ago and you thought I was someone I wasn’t, well I was at the _time_ and—” she sighed. “It’s just nice seeing you again.” 

“Oh for the love of!” Ashlan huffed loudly from the other side of the room. “Tell _her_ what you told _me_ Malavai, for pity’s sake.” 

Marli blushed a vivid purple and turned to glare at him. Quinn glared too and she felt a flare of camaraderie between the pair of them. 

Quinn cleared his throat. “He’s not wrong.” 

“Oh he might be,” she narrowed her eyes at Ashlan and then turned her attention back to Quinn. They hadn’t been speaking _loudly_ , Ashlan would have only been able to read their body language from where he was filling out some manner of form on a datapad. Not that he should have been paying attention to them in the first place. 

Maybe she and Quinn should have picked a more private place to… to what? Awkwardly shoe-gaze at one another? This was stupid. 

She looked back at Ashlan. “Tell. Vette.” 

Ashlan went pink. 

She turned her attention back to Quinn. 

“He still hasn’t?” Quinn looked a little surprised. “I thought that, with her joining the Alliance they would have discussed their obvious mutual attraction.” 

“They have not,” Marli crossed her arms over her chest. “Because they’re stupid.” 

She watched Ashlan’s reflection exit the room in something akin to a hurry and gave a small, approving nod. 

“And you and Vette?” Quinn asked. 

“Same as ever, she’s… she’s a colossal help.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Quinn said dryly. She scowled at him but it only lasted a minute when his eyes actually fixed on hers. 

Marli’s mouth felt very dry very suddenly. She held his gaze evenly, thinking back to to many nights missing bright blue eyes. 

She remembered sitting in the medbay trying not to reach for one another. 

She remembered his mouth pressed against hers. 

She wanted to try again. She wanted, very badly, to give whatever there was between them a chance to be something real. 

“Malavai,” she tasted his name on the tops of her teeth. “Look, I don’t know if there’s a chance for whatever we almost had to…” she gestured uselessly, “flourish? But I, I would like to try.” 

He took a small step away from the window towards her. “I don’t know how much of a chance there is for that,” he admitted. “You were a different person when we knew each other but—”

“Not that different,” she admitted weakly.

It wasn’t all Vitiate. It wasn’t all evil. It wasn’t all something she had to run from. 

“But,” Quinn’s mouth moved to a small smile. “I’d like to see where this takes us.” He took her hand and pressed a small kiss to the top of her knuckle. “My lord.” 


End file.
